The Dark One's Kiss
by emospritelet
Summary: As I suspected would happen, this tale is now AU since 3x01 aired. Gold, Hook, Regina and the Charmings are trying to rescue Henry and must battle strange foes and their own inner demons along the way. Meanwhile, in Storybrooke, the attention of the Home Office has some unexpected consequences for those left behind. Lots of arguments and some very dark deeds...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So, my lovelies, this is a story set in Neverland and Storybrooke, which will undoubtedly be AU the moment 3x01 airs, but I hope you'll stay with me. There'll be some heated interactions, a lot of arguing, and some truly dark deeds. Rated T at the moment, but who knows how these things turn out?**

**Oh, and I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its fabulous characters, alas. I just have a lot of fun with them in my head…**

* * *

Spray surged as the Jolly Roger plunged through the waves, her bowsprit glistening with water and shedding droplets to dance and gleam in the sunlight. The sky above was a pure, cloudless blue and small greenish-blue waves buffeted the sides of the ship, rolling towards the horizon without interruption. There was no land visible, not even the break of white surf crashing against a submerged reef. Emma hung over the side, taking deep breaths of the cool sea breeze and trying to calm her roiling stomach as she stared down into the dark blue depths. It wasn't working. They had been sailing for two days, and despite having thrown up what felt like everything she had ever eaten, she still felt horribly queasy. _Once this is over_, she thought grimly,_I won't get on another damn ship if my life depends on it_. She straightened up with a groan, pushing her long blonde hair out of her face and looking around. To her great annoyance, she was the only one suffering from sea-sickness. David and Mary Margaret had stayed below deck for much of their time at sea; she suspected they merely wanted time alone together and she had granted them some privacy. Regina paced the decks, growing increasingly agitated the longer they were sailing. Emma could understand the other woman's mood; the longer they travelled, the further away Henry was likely to be. Gold had told them little about what awaited them in Neverland, merely stating that they had to be very careful and avoid being seen. The Lost Boys, he had explained, were dangerous. Killers, and unpredictable. He had suggested that they track and rescue Henry without drawing attention to themselves, if at all possible. Hook, somewhat surprisingly given his known enmity towards Gold, had readily agreed with this assessment of their predicament, and the two men had eyed one another cautiously ever since, stepping around each other like strange cats forced to occupy the same space.

Emma took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, feeling momentarily as though she herself was one of the ship's sails, flapping desperately in the stiff wind. She swallowed hard and flicked her gaze to the side. Gold stood a few feet from her, looking out over the cresting waves. He was dressed as immaculately as ever, long fingers folded over the handle of his cane, his body moving easily and gracefully with the ship's rolling motion to stay upright and steady. She shot him a glower that he didn't notice, hating the ease with which he had taken to sailing these waters. The strange globe he had brought with him had provided a rough setting for Hook to follow, and the pirate was at the wheel of the ship, glancing up every now and then to ensure they held course. He shot Emma a toothy grin, amused by her sickness, and she scowled in return.

"I had no idea I was carrying such a dreadful land-lubber," he called, and her scowl deepened.

"Just get us to land, Hook," she said repressively. His grin widened.

"And here I was about to offer to sail away with you when all this is over," he quipped. "Then I find you can't set foot on my ship without hurling over the side every five minutes. It's not quite the romantic ending I had in mind. I was going to teach you how to trim the sails."

Emma muttered under her breath about exactly where he could shove his damn sails, and Hook chuckled appreciatively.

"You know, that greenish tinge does nothing for your complexion, my dear," he said kindly.

"Bite me!" snapped Emma viciously, and he burst out laughing.

"Oh, that would be my pleasure," he chuckled, as she shot him a furious look.

"Couldn't you have opened the damn portal nearer to land?" she demanded waspishly, and he shrugged.

"Give a fella a chance to get his bearings, Emma," he said reasonably. "I've not been here in a while; it's good to get a feel for the place."

"All I feel is nausea," she snapped. He grinned, turning the wheel slightly.

"You'll be pleased to know the torment is almost over," he said, gesturing in front of them. "Take a look."

Emma looked up, squinting at the skyline. She could see a faint, dark blue line against the flat expanse of the ocean.

"We'll be there in a few hours," added Hook, and Emma nodded, relieved.

* * *

The globe had steered them towards a large, forested landmass, purple hills climbing up out of the green canopy of trees, like dark fists jabbing at the sky. Hook dropped anchor some way off shore, letting down a small rowing boat to transport them to the pebbled beach. David and Mary Margaret had been over the cache of weapons on the ship, and everyone but Gold and Regina armed themselves from the collection. Mary Margaret had also packed bags with useful things they might need, including pots, pans, utensils, rope, blankets and tinderboxes. The bags were stowed in the bottom of the boat, swords sheathed and arrows stored in quivers before the small party climbed in. Everyone kept a watchful eye on the surroundings, running anxious gazes along the distant beach and treeline above the shore, but it seemed, for the moment at least, that they were undetected.

"Although I like jumping in with no thought for my personal safety as much as the next man," said Hook cheerfully, as he rowed them across. "I think a plan might be good right about now." Emma and Regina shared glances.

"We need a way to find out where he is," said Regina firmly. "Gold, is that globe any use to us now we're here?"

Gold grimaced, his fingers tightening on the handle of his cane. "The magic's different here, I'm sure you can feel it. It could find him if he were still and settled somewhere, but he's on the move. I could only get a rough estimate. We need another way." He eyed her knowingly. "I'm sure you've thought of something."

Regina gave him a flat look. "As a matter of fact," she acknowledged. "I thought of a locator spell, but then I figured we would want to find out some more about exactly who has him before we go charging in." The others nodded.

"If it's still just Mendell and Tamara, I think we'll be okay," said Emma. "And if we come across them any time soon, I'm gonna bitch-slap Tamara into next week!"

"Mendell's mine," added Regina, her voice a low, dangerous drawl. David held up a placating hand.

"Let's consider Henry's rescue first," he said quietly. "We can argue about revenge later." He shot Emma a meaningful look, and she sighed. She knew she should not be seeking vengeance; that it would only consume her as it had Regina, but the pain of losing Neal was too raw for her to think straight. She met David and Mary Margaret's eyes and nodded reluctantly, shifting uncomfortably on the hard wooden seat of the boat. Gold watched her closely, saying nothing, a tiny, amused smile on his face. It made her nervous when he did that; it was as though he knew something no-one else was privy to.

"No revenge," she agreed. Regina said nothing, her face impassive. Emma opened her mouth again. "I think we have to grab him sooner rather than later. Once they take him – wherever it is they're taking him – I think the odds could turn against us."

"Agreed," said David, grimly. "We need some surveillance before we attempt a rescue."

"So what we need is something that will show us what _we _want to see, without being seen ourselves," mused Gold, waiting for the information he knew was coming.

Hook cleared his throat as he worked the oars. "Although it's been a while, I've heard rumours concerning this side of the island," he began. "Rumours that the caves contain a great wonder that will enable you to see whatever you desire."

Gold smiled briefly.

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Emma bluntly. "Take us to these caves and let's get whatever the hell it is!"

Hook pulled a face. "As much as I admire and appreciate your enthusiasm, Emma," he drawled. "Bear in mind that something labelled a 'great wonder' is invariably very well-guarded by something equally terrible."

"So what guards this?" asked Regina curiously, and Hook chuckled.

"You know, I never had the opportunity to find out," he said, amused.

"Then today's your lucky day!" said David loudly. "You, me, Snow and Gold go to the caves, Regina and Emma can set up the camp and make sure we're shielded from unfriendly eyes."

There were nods from the others, and Hook rolled his eyes before assenting.

"Don't blame me if we're all killed," he muttered darkly.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Having watched the ship plunge out of sight into a swirling vortex of blue and green, Belle made her way slowly back from the docks, her heart heavy with loss and sudden fear. She felt incredibly tired, bone-weary to the point where she just wanted to sit down and curl into a ball, and it was an effort to keep one foot stepping in front of the other. Tears stung her eyes and she wiped them away furiously. She refused to give in to despair, even though Rumple's face had convinced her that he thought he was going to his doom. She tucked the tiny scroll wrapped in its red ribbon into the pocket of her blue pea-coat; she had not yet opened it and would not until she reached the shop. Part of her was afraid that, once she had opened and read it, it would disappear, and she wanted to hold onto something of his for as long as she could. She trudged across the road to Granny's diner, unseeing as the townsfolk called a greeting to her or shouted to one another. Ruby was standing just outside, righting the sign that had fallen over in the tumult of magic that had engulfed the town.

"Belle?" she asked softly, looking over her friend. "Is it – is it you?"

Belle looked up at her and nodded wearily. "It's me," she confirmed, and burst into tears. Ruby, bless her, said nothing, folding her arms around Belle and holding her close. Belle explained, in broken, halting sentences, what had happened, and Ruby murmured her sympathies, stroking Belle's hair, worry growing in her own heart for her friends now sucked through a portal to some other land. After a few minutes Belle's tears turned to snuffles, and Ruby gently drew back.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked softly. "Tea? Cake? More chocolate and alcohol than the human body can stand?"

Belle laughed tearfully, wiping her eyes. "Sounds good," she agreed. "But first I need to take a shower and change into something that doesn't make me look like a streetwalker." She took a deep, calming breath. "And then I need to talk to you about something," she added seriously. "Give me an hour?"

Ruby nodded, curious, and Belle squeezed her hand and made her way to the library, and her apartment.

* * *

She pulled off the ridiculously short dress and threw it into a corner, making a mental note to burn Lacey's entire wardrobe at the earliest opportunity. She removed the necklace Gold had given her, setting it carefully down on the dresser to put on again once she was clean. After showering and dressing in a dark blue tea-dress, red belt and matching peep-toes, and feeling much more like herself, Belle packed a case with her clothes and toiletries and carried it to Gold's house. She wanted to be there, despite his absence. She wanted to pretend that, at any moment, he would walk through the door. Once inside, she carried the case up to his room, _their _room_,_ and put it down next to the dresser, noting the familiar furniture, the neatness of the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked a hand across the silken coverlet, smiling slightly, and momentarily blushing, as she recalled the last time she had been there. Memories flitting through her head and making the blush intensify, she lifted his pillow to her face, breathing in his familiar scent, losing herself for a moment in the illusion of his closeness. _No more tears_, she told herself angrily, putting the pillow aside. She could always cry at night. For now, she had a job to do. He had faith in her to protect the town. She wouldn't let him down.

* * *

Belle took a deep breath and entered the diner, smiling at the happy townsfolk milling around inside. The atmosphere was cheerful and boisterous; she assumed they hadn't yet heard what had become of Mary Margaret and the others. Ruby caught her eye and beckoned her to a stool at the bar next to Leroy, who pulled her into a wordless, crushing hug that almost made Belle cry again. She hugged him back, smiling over his shoulder at Tom, who was drinking with his brothers, memory clearly restored.

"Ruby told us what happened," said Leroy quietly. "Most people don't know yet. I thought perhaps we could hold a meeting at the town hall later on. We need a new Mayor. And a sheriff. Town'll go to hell if we don't look out for it."

"I _am _looking out for it," said Belle earnestly. "Rumple told me we're in danger; whoever sent Greg and Tamara, they know the town's here. They'll come looking for us. We have to hide."

"Hide?" said Leroy, confused, and Belle pulled the tiny scroll from her pocket.

"He gave me this," she explained. "It'll hide the town from unfriendly eyes, make it impossible to find even though they know where we are."

"A spell?" queried Leroy, brows wrinkling. "The Blue Fairy?"

Belle sucked her lips over her teeth, unsure. "I think I want to find out what kind of spell it is first," she said quietly. "I have a feeling she may not be too eager to cast one of Rumple's creations."

Leroy grunted agreement. "Let me know if you need help," he said gruffly, and Belle hugged him again.

"Ruby and I will look into it," she explained. "And if we need help you'll be the first person I'll call."

Leroy pulled a face. "Just be careful," he pleaded. "I don't want either of you getting sucked into another dimension because you didn't add enough eye of newt."

Belle grinned. "Call the meeting," she advised. "Perhaps we'll know more by tonight."

XxXxXxXxXxX

As dusk was approaching, Hook, David, Mary Margaret and Gold approached the yawning black mouth of a cave cut into the hillside by wind, rain and the sea-currents of centuries past. Hook had found his way to the area with ease; his many years in Neverland had made him familiar with its landscape and, although he had previously avoided the caves themselves, finding them had not been an issue. Mary Margaret had scouted for a suitable base for them to camp, and eventually she had settled on a clearing in the trees with a view of the sea, so that a swift escape to the ship would be possible, and a stream nearby. The campsite was sheltered from the wind and the surrounding trees and bushes provided sufficient cover, as well as fuel for the fire. Regina had some difficulty harnessing the local magic, but eventually she managed to start a small blaze that sent out a lot of heat but little smoke. They took stock of their provisions; Hook had brought dried food from the ship, and Mary Margaret had gone around setting some snares to catch any edible wildlife in the area. Having established their camp, she, David, Gold and Hook had made their way to the caves. Regina and Emma watched them leave anxiously. They had agreed to take it in turns to act as lookout once the sun set, and before leaving Gold had suggested, softly and somewhat ominously, that they remember to watch the skies. At the caves the tide was out and the entrance was dry sand underfoot, strewn with driftwood, shells, and the knotted strands of dead seaweed.

"If these caves contain something powerful," said Mary Margaret, stumbling a little on the uneven ground, "how come you pirates have never tried to find it? Aren't you all obsessed with treasure?"

Hook put a hand to his heart with an expression of mock hurt. "I assure you, love, we do have other priorities. Staying alive being one of the most important."

"So, what's the story here?" she asked curiously. "Magic and power, and you guys aren't the least bit interested?"

Hook laughed hollowly. "Fools rush in where mermaids fear to swim," he said dryly. It sounded almost like a curse. Mary Margaret suppressed a shudder, and looked up at the rocks above her. Over the entrance to the cave, strange runic letters were cut into the stone in jagged lines.

"What does that say?" asked David warily, and Gold frowned, running a long finger over the dusty markings.

'"If you look, you will never see,"' he read slowly. "Or possibly 'open your eyes, and see no more'. A literal translation is difficult."

"Comforting," acknowledged Hook. "And cryptic. I like it."

"So, what does it mean?" asked Mary Margaret.

"It means we must be very careful," said Gold quietly. "This is a very ancient language, which means whatever is down here is equally ancient. I suggest we make as little noise as possible until we find out exactly what awaits us." He stepped forwards into the cave, Hook dodging past him and lighting the end of a piece of driftwood with his flint and steel to show them the way. David and Mary Margaret picked up branches of their own, but Gold simply waved his hand and created a ball of cold blue light to hang in front of them.

"Keep the fire, it may come in handy," he said quietly, as David looked to discard his piece of wood. One by one, torches in hand, with Gold bringing up the rear, they walked deeper into the cave.

* * *

**A/N Hope I've whetted your appetite; please review if so. Point of interest: Hook's line to Emma about her green complexion was my husband's opening line to me when we met. Hmm. Not that I'm saying I'm a Captain Swan shipper - I'm trying to remain ambiguous on the ship front other than Rumbelle. Read into my tales what you will, dearies!**


	2. Chapter 2

They had been walking for perhaps twenty minutes when they heard the first unfamiliar noise, a strange, low growling. They immediately halted, Hook waving his piece of burning wood to try to make out what was ahead.

"I can't see anything," he said warily. "Does anyone have any idea what that was?"

"Are there bears on this island?" asked David, and Hook shrugged.

"Never seen one," he admitted. "But then, it's my first time in here, so who knows?"

The sound had disappeared. They stood in silence for a good five minutes, ears straining, before Mary Margaret spoke.

"I don't think we can stay here all night," she pointed out. "I can't hear anything, so let's go on."

Hook puffed out his cheeks uncertainly, but nodded and strode forward. The passage sloped downwards and became colder and wetter, water running down the walls and trickling across the floor. David had the uneasy feeling that they were below the ocean and tried not to think of the walls collapsing around them and condemning them to a watery tomb. Then, as abruptly as it had started, the passage ended at a doorway with a face carved into the stone lintel, a cruel face with a curling tongue, its brows drawn down and its head wreathed in what looked like stylised flames.

"Well, that's welcoming," said Hook dryly. "It looks as though we've reached our destination." He strode through the doorway and stopped, staring upwards. The others crowded in behind him and followed his gaze. They were in a vast cavern, its rocky walls lit with feeble light from their torches and Gold's glowing ball, which had shot up towards the crenelated roof. Statues stood in a haphazard arrangement around the floor. They were all men, in varied outfits, clearly hailing from different lands, and some in very strange poses. Mary Margaret marvelled at the skill of the craftsmen in picking out minute details of the armour worm by one man, the lines in another man's face. Some of the statues were crumbling into dust, features blurred, noses missing, arms cracked off, and she wondered how long they had stood there. In places, odd limbs, heads and unrecognisable chunks of rock littered the floor from those that had already broken apart due to age or violence. At the opposite end of the cavern, on a plinth of marble surrounded by rubble, sat a large oval mirror, ornately framed in silver.

"That's it!" whispered David. "That must be what we need!"

"Indeed," said Gold quietly, looking furtively around the cavern. "Now, how do you propose we get it?"

"There's nothing here," said Hook patiently, "it'll be easy. I don't know what all the fuss was about." Gold rolled his eyes.

"Yes, and I expect that's exactly what these gentlemen thought," he said sarcastically, motioning towards the statues surrounding them. Mary Margaret gasped as she realised what he was suggesting.

"Watch!" scoffed Hook, thrusting his torch at Mary Margaret before striding out across the floor. David made a grab for his shoulder, but missed. Hook jogged quickly towards the mirror, casting his eyes from left to right as he did so. He reached the plinth without incident and lifted his prize in both hands with a triumphant shout.

"Told you it was easy!" he called, turning the mirror to gaze at his own reflection. David and Mary Margaret shushed him, gesturing with their arms for him to be quiet and get back to them. Gold merely watched as what he had initially thought to be a pile of rocks in an alcove to the side of the plinth moved. A large greyish body, human in shape, uncurled itself and turned towards Hook. Gold's eyes widened in recognition and he suddenly span away from it in fear.

"Cover your eyes!" he shouted. "Cover your eyes! Don't look, don't move, and don't say a word until I tell you!"

Hook stood, frozen in shock, as the thing in front of him stood up to its full height. It had the form of a human female, albeit far larger than any human, but its skin was the dusty grey of the boulders littered around the cavern. Its heavy, pendulous breasts swayed forwards and backwards as it bent towards the pirate, the muscles of its arms and thighs seeming to ripple unnaturally. As Hook's gaze travelled up its body, he noticed with horror that its head was covered in writhing snakes, its tongue long and pointed, and its eyes…

The creature opened its mouth wide, showing yellow, pointed teeth and letting out a growl of rage. David, Gold and Mary Margaret stood stock still, eyes squeezed shut, straining to hear what it was doing.

"Don't move a muscle," Gold whispered, his voice barely audible. There was more growling, this time further away, then silence. Gold counted two minutes, then opened one eye a crack. The creature was curled again in its alcove, head tucked under its arms. He touched David on the shoulder and put his finger to his lips as David's eyes flew open. The three of them turned towards the cavern.

"Hook!" whispered Mary Margaret, pointing, putting her hand to her mouth in shock. The pirate was standing with his hands raised, as though they were still holding the mirror. That object was back on its plinth, as if it had never been taken. Gold walked forwards slowly, reaching out to put his hand on Hook's arm. The hard dustiness of rock met his fingers. Hook was made entirely of stone, his handsome face, with its cocky expression, frozen in grey rock. Gold noticed with interest that even his stubble was picked out in stone.

"Well, at least we know what we're dealing with now," he shrugged, and turned to the others. "I suggest a two-pronged approach, Charmings. One of you gets the mirror while the other distracts the Gorgon."

"_Distracts it?_" said Mary Margaret incredulously. "By getting turned to stone, you mean? Somehow I think there must be a better way than that."

"I'll distract it," said David grimly. "What will you be doing, Gold?"

"I'll be directing you, of course," he said patiently. "You won't be able to look it in the face without suffering the same fate as our exuberant friend. So I suggest you keep your eyes closed and listen. Its eyesight is poor, but it has _excellent_ hearing, so be as quiet as you can."

David and Mary Margaret exchanged looks of insecurity, then squeezed one another's hand and strode quietly into the cavern, the torches in their hands casting a flickering, eerie light over the walls.

"Miss Blanchard, if you cut around to the right," whispered Gold. "Perhaps the Prince could draw his sword in readiness."

They complied, Mary Margaret ducking around the edge of the plinth while the creature still slumbered. She put down her torch carefully, making as little noise as possible.

"It will wake as soon as you take the mirror," said Gold softly. "Be ready to close your eyes."

Mary Margaret put both hands on the silver frame, watching the creature as it shifted restlessly, then in one smooth movement she lifted the mirror from its position on the plinth, holding it with the glass facing away from her. The Gorgon awoke with another enraged growl, hissing as it uncurled its body and turned to face its enemies. The three intruders squeezed their eyes shut as its gaze swept over them, then Gold felt it pass by him and lunge at David. He opened his eyes.

"Now!" he yelled, and David thrust forward, striking the creature on the arm and making it howl in pain and rage. A gout of greenish blood spurted from the injured limb, and it shied away from the fire as David swung his torch back and forth desperately. The Gorgon circled around out of the way of the flames and ducked low, before making a sudden grab for David's sword-arm.

"Again!" shouted Gold, and David swung the sword with a grunt of effort, slicing through several of the snakes on the head of the Gorgon and cutting down into its forearm. Serpents' bodies fell squirming to the rocky floor, where they continued to writhe and hiss. The Gorgon shrieked and flexed its claw-like hands as David, sightless, backed away from the noise and Mary Margaret inched closer to the cavern doorway.

"Quickly!" urged Gold, reaching out for her. The Gorgon suddenly lunged without warning, sending David flying across the cavern to land on his back, the breath knocked from his chest and the sword falling from his hand.

"No!" cried Mary Margaret, in horror, as the creature bore down on her husband. She shook off Gold's hand and ran back into the cavern, holding up the mirror in front of her. Gold hissed in annoyance.

"Hey ugly!" she bellowed. "Get away from my husband, you bitch!"

The Gorgon turned swiftly with a shriek, and Mary Margaret shut her eyes, praying that her plan would work. There was sudden, unexpected, deafening silence. Gold opened his eyes first, noting with amusement the terrible stone figure, its arms outstretched and hands almost on Mary Margaret's throat. The snakes that passed for hair moved no longer, merely part of the stone statue that stood before them, gazing at its own reflection in the mirror.

"Well done Miss Blanchard," said Gold, with a small smile. "Quick thinking on your part, dearie."

David pushed himself to his feet, embracing his wife hurriedly.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered, taking the mirror from her.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," said Gold dryly, and turned to lead the way out of the cavern.

"Gold," said David flatly. "What about Hook?"

"What about him?" Gold's voice was supreme indifference, and David and Mary Margaret glanced at one another.

"We can't just leave him like this," she protested, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Really? And why would that be? I can't see that he's any use to us, unless you're thinking of collecting a very odd set of garden ornaments." He nodded from Hook to the Gorgon.

"You can change him back," said David, and Gold nodded.

"'Can' being the operative word," he said quietly, showing his teeth. Mary Margaret folded her arms and gave him a stern look.

"You know it's the right thing to do," she said severely, and he looked aghast.

"We have met, haven't we?" he asked, in mock surprise, gesturing between the two of them. "You do know who I am, I take it?"

"Then let me put it in terms you'll understand," suggested David. "If you change him back, he'll owe you."

Gold rolled his eyes with a sigh, then grimaced and waved his hand elaborately. The stone statue of Hook seemed suddenly to crack and splinter before the man himself emerged, coughing and panting, shaking the dust from his shoulders.

"What the hell…" he gasped, looking around rapidly.

"You're welcome," growled Gold, walking slowly from the cavern.

* * *

Belle and Ruby walked quickly to Gold's shop, and stopped outside as Belle took a deep breath.

"Do you have a key?" asked Ruby, and Belle shook her head.

"Don't need one yet. There's a protection spell on it," she explained. "You have to hold my hand. It knows me, it'll need to be taught to recognise you. Once we're through I can use the keys. Then the spell will only let people in when one of us is in the shop." She held out her hand to Ruby, and her friend took it hesitantly. Belle stepped forwards slowly, feeling the spell lick over her like warm flames, gently caressing her skin. A finger of the spell ran gently over her lower lip, like Rumple would stroke her with his thumb before kissing her, and she giggled. Ruby was flinching, and Belle squeezed her hand reassuringly. After a minute or so Ruby gasped a little and nodded to Belle, and they stepped forward together to open the door. The little bell above rang cheerfully as they entered, and Belle locked the door behind them, striding purposefully into the back room.

"I didn't want to open it until I was here," she explained, taking the scroll from her pocket. "These things can be surprisingly sensitive to location and surroundings." Ruby shrugged her ignorance, but watched interestedly as Belle pulled open the red bow. Unfurling the scroll, Belle was surprised to see that it contained only a few lines in Gold's neat, slanting handwriting.

_Red Grimoire, page 87_

_Storybrooke has everything you need_

_It will hurt_

_You'll be afraid_

_But I know you'll do it anyway, my brave beauty_

_I love you _

_R x_

"Hmm," she said, vexed. Ruby looked over her shoulder.

"What does he mean 'it'll hurt'?" she asked.

"The spell, I imagine," said Belle glumly. "That's it: we're definitely not asking the Blue Fairy for help. It must be something dark."

"Well, does it hurt _him _to cast magic?" asked Ruby, and Belle shook her head.

"Not as far as I know. Maybe it's just this particular spell," she said. She started scanning the shelves. "We'd better find the red grimoire he's talking about. Ruby, look over there." She pointed vaguely to the shelves behind her, then turned back to those she had been gazing at, running her finger gently across the spines of dozens of old books. Ruby looked over the shelves, pulling out any red book she could get her hands on. After a while they had two piles containing perhaps three dozen books, and Belle sighed.

"I almost wish I'd let him teach me some magic," she said reluctantly. "I could have been more useful. Come on, let's start the process of elimination."

They leafed through the books, putting aside those in languages other than English, which Belle would need to translate, and those which were clearly not the book they were looking for, being non-fiction works on antiques or history, or volumes containing accounts of the ogre wars or ancient bloodlines of the Enchanted Forest. Page eighty-seven of all the books in English did not provide any spell that would achieve what they wanted, and Belle grumbled under her breath at her lover's oblique message. Eventually, they had narrowed it down to three books, and Belle looked over them curiously, biting her lip in concentration.

"This looks our best bet," she said, picking up a heavy tome bound in red leather. "The script is runic, and I know some of that – I was starting to learn some of the off-world languages when I was at Rumple's castle." She leafed through the book with interest, flipping the heavy vellum pages until she reached eighty-seven.

"What does it say?" asked Ruby, flicking her long hair back out of her face. Belle frowned, jabbing at a rune at the top of the page.

"I can't tell if that means 'hide' or 'protect'," she said, frustrated.

"Well, both are good, aren't they?" pointed out Ruby, and Belle shook her head.

"We need to be sure," she insisted. "I need to know I'm doing what he asked. Bring the lamp." She waved impatiently at a table-lamp, and Ruby picked it up as Belle opened the book out flat on the work table. She scanned the text briefly, frowning.

"I don't know enough of this. I need the book to translate runes," she said, irritated. "This is going to take longer than I thought. I'll have to go home." She puffed air through her teeth in annoyance. "Why couldn't he just give me the damn spell?"

Ruby secretly thought that Rumplestiltskin never did anything without a reason, and therefore that there was obviously a purpose to this delay, but she said nothing.

"Why don't you go home and get started on the translation?" she suggested. "I can come over later and see how you're getting on, and then we can do the spell tomorrow."

Belle nodded absently, still poring over the book.

"Hmm. Okay. See you later." She was still reading when Ruby let herself out of the shop.

* * *

Thousands of miles away, a cellphone sitting on the leather-covered rear seat of a sleek Jaguar started to ring. A man's hand moved to pick up the phone, wrinkled and slightly liver-spotted, the wrist disappearing into a crisp white shirt cuff below the pale grey of a suit sleeve. Long, pale fingers curled around the phone, the thumb swiping across its touchscreen to answer the call.

"Yes?" said the man quietly.

"They set off the trigger," the female voice at the other end said.

"Really? And what was the outcome?" It was a very English voice, cultured. The sort of voice that, a century earlier, would have presided over one of England's larger estates.

"Something appears to have happened. It didn't work."

"And the agents?"

"No word from them since."

Fingers drummed on the leather seat. "How soon could you be in place?"

"The agents provided the coordinates as instructed," the woman said confidently. "I can have our people there tomorrow."

"Do so. Reconnaissance only at the moment. Do not reveal yourselves until I give the order."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Ruby knocked at Gold's door four times before Belle came to answer it, the red spellbook under her arm, a vague expression on her face and dust on her nose. Ruby knew that look; Belle had obviously been reading for the four hours since the two had parted, and by the look of things had had to dig around to get the books she wanted.

"The meeting at the town hall's in half an hour," said Ruby, as she slipped through the door and followed Belle into the lounge. Books were piled on the sofa, with more on the floor. "I thought we could go and see what's decided, and I'll help you translate the spell afterwards, if you like." She grinned self-deprecatingly. "Even if I just bring you coffee and make supportive noises from the side of the room."

Belle smiled gratefully, putting the book down. "Thanks, Ruby, I'd appreciate some help. I'm so tired I can't think straight." She ran her hands over her face distractedly. "I'm about three-quarters of the way through. It's pretty slow going." She flipped the book shut. "I've found loads of interesting stuff, though. Did you know there are hundreds of different healing spells? It's not all dark stuff, there's loads that could really help people buried in these old books. Maybe when I get a chance…" She trailed off, looking over the pile of books, distracted once more.

"Well, you should let it go for now," declared Ruby, wiping the dust from her nose and taking her hand. "Come on, let's go and listen to Leroy trying to keep the townsfolk in order."

Giggling, Belle grabbed her coat and tucked her arm through her friend's as she left the house.

* * *

"Okay, shut up everyone!" bawled Leroy, as the noise level in the town hall surged. There was silence as the townsfolk turned to look at him, and he grunted. Belle, Ruby, Granny, Archie and Mother Superior behind a table on the stage, facing outwards at the Storybrookers seated in neat rows. Leroy sat back down next to Archie.

"Where's Snow White?" called someone.

"Where the hell's Regina?" asked someone else, and Leroy held up a hand.

"Snow White and Prince Charming, along with Regina, Gold, Emma and Hook, have gone to another realm," he began. A worried buzz started up. "Henry was kidnapped and taken there first," he continued. "They've gone after him. We don't know when they'll be back, but believe me, they _will_ be back."

Belle nodded, more to remind herself of this fact than to reassure the townsfolk.

"So, this is what we need to decide," said Mother Superior. The hall fell silent as she spoke, and she looked from left to right over the sea of faces, smiling slightly, calming them. "We have no Mayor and no sheriff. We need to decide who is going to run this town in their absence, and how we're going to do it."

"Simple," barked a voice, and Belle recognised the D.A., Spencer. He stood up. "I believe I'm next in seniority. I'll be more than happy to become Mayor."

"Well, you can certainly nominate…" began Mother Superior, but he waved a dismissive hand.

"We don't have the luxury of waiting for an election campaign!" he snapped. "This town needs stability, security. It needs someone with a knowledge of the law and the strength to uphold it. The District Attorney is the obvious choice."

"There are other choices," said Belle calmly, and Spencer sneered at her.

"Are you nominating one of your band of misfits up there?" he demanded sarcastically, and looked around the crowd. "You can't seriously think any of the people in front of us are suitable? A werewolf, a dwarf, a dried-up old woman and the Dark One's child-bride? Please!" His voice was contemptuous. Ruby bristled, and Belle squeezed her hand under the table. "Besides," Spencer continued. "I'm used to ruling as King back in our land. And in the absence of Regina, the shepherd and his usurping whore, I'm the most appropriate ruler for this town."

Leroy growled in fury at his description of Mary Margaret, but Belle shook her head briefly at him.

"It's true, you were indeed the ruler of a kingdom," she agreed. "Wasn't your kingdom bankrupt? Is that how you intend to run Storybrooke?"

There was a ripple of laughter throughout the crowd, and Spencer reddened with anger. Chatter erupted in the hall as the townsfolk argued amongst themselves over who would be an appropriate Mayor. Leroy bent towards Belle.

"I was thinking about nominating you," he whispered. "Now the alternative is Spencer, I'm even more certain that I should." Ruby nodded, but Belle shook her head.

"I think we'd be better with a Council," she said softly. "All of us. That way no one person has all the power. I'm going to have my hands full for the next few days with this spell – the town needs someone it can turn to."

Mother Superior nodded approvingly, and got to her feet. "We have another proposal," she announced, as the crowd quietened. "A Council, containing the six of us. Between us we have experience, magic, insight and strength. Not to mention a strong desire to protect this town and everyone in it." She leant on the table, fixing the crowd with an intense gaze. "This calls for a vote. Make your nominations, and we vote in an hour."

* * *

The vote was clear in favour of the Council, and Leroy was also elected acting Sheriff. Belle and Ruby left the others sorting out the details, and trotted back to Gold's house. Ruby put on some coffee while Belle buried herself in the books, and little was said for the next three hours as she completed the translation and double-checked her work. It was after midnight when she stretched and sighed, and accepted a glass of brandy from Ruby gratefully.

"I think we're done," she said tiredly. Ruby looked over her shoulder at the translation.

"So, what do we need?" She picked up the piece of paper. "Unicorn hair, the bark of a cinnamon tree, powdered obsidian, pure wine – what does that mean? – the scales of a chimera…Belle, where are we going to get all of this?"

"The shop," yawned Belle. "Rumple has all of that stuff in the back room – except the wine, anyway."

"I can get that," said Ruby, chewing her lip. "I'll try and get the purest stuff I can."

"Good," Belle drank her brandy with pleasure. "We'll cast the spell at the shop. Are you up for an early start? I thought we'd try tomorrow morning."

"I'm in," said Ruby cheerfully, and clinked her own glass against Belle's.

* * *

David, Mary Margaret, Gold and Hook returned to the campsite to find that Emma and Regina were boiling water for tea. Regina had used a small spell to locate fruit trees and there were pears and apples to eat with the bread and dried meat Hook had brought from the ship. They looked up with obvious relief as the others returned.

"We got a mirror," announced David, holding it up.

"This Mirror," added Gold, the capital letter clear in his voice, "is a way to see whatever we wish. I believe it will only work for a short time on each occasion, but it should be sufficient for our purposes."

"So, this shows you whatever you want?" asked Emma, intrigued. "How does it work?"

"Hold an image of whatever it is you want to see in your mind," explained Gold, "and instruct the Mirror to show you."

"I think later on I'll picture you getting undressed, Emma," called Hook. He grinned widely as he lounged by the fire. "That's definitely something I want to see!"

Emma curled her lip at him. "Yeah, well, I hope you have a good imagination," she said flatly, and Gold smiled.

"If it makes you more comfortable, Miss Swan, let me know when you plan to change, and I'll simply remove his eyeballs," he said easily, with an elaborate gesture.

The smile was wiped from Hook's face and he looked suddenly wary. Emma bit her lip in amusement before turning back to Gold.

"So, I just think of Henry, and ask it to show me where he is?" she asked.

"Not exactly." Gold drew a knife from his inside pocket. "Firstly, it requires payment."

Emma looked wary. "Blood?"

He showed his teeth. "Naturally."

She hesitated, then held out her hand so he could draw the knife across her palm. She flinched, drops of deep red falling onto the flat glass of the Mirror and being immediately absorbed, as though the surface were water. Gold made the knife disappear and held up the Mirror.

"Now," he said quietly. "Picture Henry, and ask your question."

* * *

**A/N Hmm, so, what do you think? I know there have been some hints of Gold becoming Rumple in Neverland, but for what I've got planned for him, it works better as Gold. Like I said, slightly AU.**

**Next time, Ruby and Belle try to cast the spell, Emma and Hook have a confrontation, and we get a glimpse of Henry.**


	3. Chapter 3

"Show me Henry," said Emma, firmly. The mirror's surface swirled silver and blue, and a picture formed: the glow of a camp fire and three figures huddled around it. Emma gasped and Regina clutched her shoulder painfully as they recognised Henry.

"He's okay!" said Regina, her voice breaking slightly with relief. David and Mary Margaret hugged in celebration.

"Can he hear us?" asked Emma, and Gold and Regina shook their heads simultaneously.

"You can only communicate if there's a mirror in the place you're looking at, to establish a two-way connection," explained Gold. "We'll be able to hear them, but you can be as loud as you wish, they'll hear nothing."

"Where are they?" mused Emma, looking over the surroundings to find any clue as to their whereabouts. The forest surrounding their small camp looked identical to that around their own; there were no distinguishing landmarks that she could see.

"Here, kid." Greg's voice, coming out of the mirror as though he were right next to them, made them all jump. He handed Henry an apple, and bit into one himself.

"Rabbit's almost done," announced Tamara. Emma felt her heart burn with sudden rage at the sound of her voice. She flicked her eyes at Gold, but his face was expressionless.

"You two are gonna be sorry when my Moms get here," announced Henry fiercely, and Emma and Regina exchanged looks of glee at his defiance. "They'll find a way, you know. It's been two days. You should be running for your lives, not sitting here cooking rabbits."

"Keep it down, Henry," said Tamara in a bored voice. "There's no way for them to get here. Hook took the last bean, and if you think he'll use that to help anyone but himself you're crazy."

Hook placed a hand over his heart with a wounded expression on his face, making Mary Margaret roll her eyes.

"Yeah, well, you don't know my Moms!" shouted Henry, scrambling to his feet. "They'll come after me, and when they do they are _totally_ gonna kick your butts!"

David snorted with laughter, and Gold's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Sit down!" ordered Greg, but Henry wasn't finished.

"And when my Grandpa's through with you, you'll wish you'd never been born!" he yelled. Gold grinned wickedly, then frowned as he saw Greg pull Henry to the ground again.

"Just shut up, and eat!" snapped Tamara. Henry glowered at her.

"You won't win," he said fiercely. "Good _always_ defeats evil!"

"Good?" Greg's voice was sarcastic. "Is that how you'd describe them? This family of yours?"

"My Mom _is_ good," insisted Henry. "She's done some evil things, but I know she's good inside. I know it!"

Regina bit her lip, tears pricking the back of her eyes, and Emma gave her a sympathetic look.

"They're murderers," said Greg coldly. "Liars. Heretics. Wielders of powers no human has the right to. We've done you a favour getting you away from them."

"Murderers?" Henry's voice was breaking as he struggled, trying to get away. He jabbed a finger at Tamara. "What about _her_? She killed my dad!"

"And Regina killed mine," said Greg fiercely, shoving his face close to Henry's. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Henry started wiping away tears, then, and Regina decided death was far too good for his kidnappers. Well, a quick death, anyway. But first they had to get to them. She raised her hand, and a small light appeared at her fingertip. She blew gently on it, and it sailed towards the mirror and sank into its surface. Gold nodded approvingly. The others looked questioningly at Regina.

"It's a locator," she explained. "It'll travel to where he is, then return, and we can follow it."

The mirror's surface shimmered again, the picture disappearing and the reflections of the six people looking in replacing it. Emma sighed.

"At least we know he's okay," she said thankfully.

"And in fighting spirits, it seems," chuckled David. He put his arm around his daughter's shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, honey. We'll get him back. They have no clue we're here. We just need the spell to work its magic."

* * *

Belle arranged several small bowls of ingredients on the workbench in the back of Gold's shop, checking them off on a piece of paper she held with the translated spell written on it. The day had dawned not long ago, but the two friends were already preparing the cloaking spell. Ruby had noticed straight away that Belle's eyes were red and puffy, and suspected that her friend had spent much of the night crying rather than sleeping. She had said nothing, but went straight out to get hot coffees and sticky doughnuts fresh from Granny's, which seemed to revive Belle. Ruby was torn between indignation at Gold on behalf of her friend and relief that she was still in Storybrooke, safe, and able to cast the spell that would protect them. If all went to plan…

"Okay," announced Belle. "I think we've got everything. Light the flame, Ruby."

Ruby lit the Bunsen burner beneath a glass jar suspended above it.

"You know, chemistry was never my strong point at school," she muttered nervously, and Belle shot her a look.

"As your memories of taking chemistry are entirely fake, try not to get too upset about it," she said dryly. "Now, put in the obsidian."

Ruby sprinkled a large pinch of black powder into the jar. Belle added the other ingredients; herbs, some pieces of bark, chimera scales and unicorn hair. She finished by lighting a thin wooden taper and setting fire to the pile of ingredients, already hot from the flame beneath the glass jar. The bark and herbs began to smoulder, small orange tongues of flame licking over the roughened surface of the wood.

"Okay, it needs to burn down to ash," she said. "It should only take a minute or so."

A pungent smoke started to rise from the burning ingredients, and Ruby wrinkled her nose at the smell. "Are you sure this is right, Belle?"

Belle sniffed. "Believe me, this is nothing. Sometimes I refused to let Rumple in the house after a day of potion-making. I threatened to hose him down in the yard once. I don't know why magic always has to be stinky." She looked in the jar, and poked at the remains of the ingredients with the end of a spoon. "Right, I think we're almost done. Where's the wine?"

Ruby picked up the bottle of wine, looking at it uncertainly. "I hope this is okay," she said. "It's organic, and I put it through two coffee filters, so I can't see us getting anything purer."

"It'll be fine," said Belle, reassuringly, rereading the spell. "Here – we need one cupful."

Ruby measured out the wine and carefully added it to the jar of ash.

"Okay," said Belle briskly. "Now we just let it boil for ten minutes and then I…" She cut off as she watched the mixture in the jar bubbling and seething, turning from a deep red to a thick black fluid the colour of liquorice.

"Is it – supposed to look like that?" asked Ruby nervously, and Belle looked over her translation worriedly.

"I – I'm not – no!" she said desperately. The two women eyed the potion warily as it boiled and bubbled. Suddenly the movement stopped and the potion seemed to shrink in upon itself. Ruby heaved a sigh of relief, before the jar burst apart with a bang and the force of an explosion threw them both backwards, splattering the shop with thick, sticky strands of potion. Breathing deeply, heart pounding with shock, Belle sat up, followed by her friend. Ruby put her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter at the sight of Belle. Her hair was standing on end and she was coated in black slime from head to foot.

"I don't know what you're laughing at," said Belle sarcastically. "You look just as bad."

"I guess Leroy was right to be worried," chuckled Ruby. "I don't think we'll be putting your boyfriend out of business any time soon."

Belle made noises of disgust as she wiped the sticky potion from her face. "I vote a shower and a change of clothes."

"Agreed."

The two friends left the shop, wincing as their footsteps squelched on the pavement. They parted outside Granny's and Belle headed up to her apartment, as it was quicker than going home to Gold's. It took three lots of shampooing to get the stuff out of her hair, but it was surprisingly soft and shiny afterwards. She chuckled to herself as she wondered whether she had discovered a beauty spell. When she entered Granny's to collect Ruby, she found her friend talking to Leroy.

"Leroy says he can get us some help with the spell," called Ruby, and Belle raised a questioning eyebrow at him. The dwarf shuffled his feet a little awkwardly.

"Nova," he explained. "She's a fairy. Here she's Sister Astrid."

Belle's face fell. "Here she's a _nun_? Oh, Leroy, I'm so sorry!" She put a hand on his arm, and he grunted uncomfortably.

"Don't matter. We have a lot of stuff to work through. She'll help though, I know it. She's good." His face was wistful as he strolled out of the diner. Belle bit her lip.

"What the hell was that?" asked Ruby, and Belle sighed and explained the story of Leroy's true love as she and Ruby walked quickly to Gold's shop to await the arrival of the dwarf and his fairy.

* * *

Emma strode apart from the campsite, wandering between unfamiliar trees and kicking a small rock in front of her. She was feeling unsociable; David and Mary Margaret were wrapped up in each other, Regina was chatting amicably with Hook, and Gold was off on his own, no doubt conjuring something or furthering his own interests. After her initial joy at seeing Henry alive and relatively unhurt, she was desperate to get to him and now just wanted to be alone. It was the first time in the few days since the terrible events in Storybrooke that she had allowed herself to think, to feel. She had confessed her love for Neal, just as she had lost him forever. The pain in her heart could not be ignored; she had always loved him, she still did. She wondered if she was cursed to lose everyone she loved; true, she had found her parents again, had found Henry, but now Henry was taken and her parents – they were headed into danger, who knew what would happen. She wanted to hit something in her frustration. Preferably Tamara. That bitch was not going to get away with betraying then killing Neal. Emma kicked the rock a little too hard and it sailed beyond the trees, out of reach. She let out a frustrated breath and leant back against the solid trunk of the nearest tree.

"Something you need to share?" Hook's voice made her start, and he slipped out from behind another tree. Emma grimaced.

"You know, for a guy in creaky leather pants, you can be stealthy," she remarked, and he grinned.

"Don't worry, Emma," he said comfortingly. "We'll find him."

"Why do you care?" asked Emma, curiously. "I thought you had only one mission in life. At which you failed. Why should you care what happens to my son?"

It was Hook's turn to grimace. "Maybe, being with you made me realise that I've wasted the past three hundred years," he shrugged. "Maybe I don't like to see you take quite so much on the chin." He smiled widely, and Emma gave him a sceptical look.

"Or maybe…?" she asked, and his grin widened.

"My, you're a suspicious one!" he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. "Can't you just accept that I've been around a lot longer than you and I know _exactly_ what you're going through?"

"I don't think you do," she said repressively, but he shook his head, moving closer.

"Let's talk about when you lost him. Your true love," he said quietly. "Not this time, that's too raw, too new, but the first time." He took a step towards her. "I imagine that you felt lost, bereft, like a part of your soul had been taken from you," he almost whispered. "You felt that you could never trust anyone, you could never get close to anyone. Oh, you'd have relationships, but it was one-sided, barriers up, never letting anyone in. Or else you'd get involved with men who would never want you for anything other than a fling, am I right? But all the time you never forget the one. You never forget _him_. No-one else can match up to _him_."

She stared at him stonily, not wanting to let him know how accurate his assessment of her life was. He leant forwards, arms pressed against the tree behind her, fencing her in. She could smell his scent: sea air, a faint whiff of rum, a smoky, musky undertone. His eyes were dark pools she could lose herself in, his earring gleaming in the faint light.

"Then you find someone to care for," he said softly. "Henry. And your love returns to you, only to be taken from you again. I think that's the saddest thing of all." He brushed her cheek gently with his forefinger, and Emma jerked backwards, bumping her head against the rough wood of the tree trunk.

"Don't," she whispered, and he smiled.

"Why not?" His fingers tangled in her hair, brushing it back from her face. She felt a sudden tug of desire in her belly. She was attracted to him, there was no denying that. It would be the easiest thing in the world to let him kiss her, to lose herself for a while. She took hold of herself.

"Because I asked you not to." She pushed his hand away. "I know you think we have this connection, but…"

"Of course we do. You admitted as much." He touched her face again, looked deep into her eyes, his voice soothing. "Emma, everything you're feeling, I've been there. I've known your pain and despair. I can help you. We can help each other." He leaned forward to kiss her, and Emma turned her head away, pushing him back.

"Really?" she said flatly. "And you followed me out into the middle of a dark forest to tell me this?"

"Well, I can hardly make my feelings known in front of your parents!" he protested. "I get the feeling they don't like me all that much." He grinned, a shark's grin, and leaned forward again. She held up a hand, stopping him.

"Okay, Hook, here's the thing," she began. "The fact that you lost your love, I get it. I get that you've missed her for all these years. I – accept – that we have a lot in common, I do." He smiled, sensing victory, but she shook her head, her voice growing hard. "Since we met, what I've learned about you is that you have spent the last three hundred years plotting revenge. That you've turned your coat time and time again, throwing your lot in with whoever you thought would get you your vengeance, no matter the cost to others. That you would shoot an innocent young woman just because she had the bad luck to love the man you hated. And you do all this in the name of what you call love. Well, I don't call it that. I call it psychosis. And I want no part of it."

He looked hurt, his face falling into lines of despair. "But I've changed, I promise you!"

"Really?" she asked, disbelievingly. "Were you undergoing a thorough session with Archie that I wasn't aware of? Was this before or after you kidnapped him? The fact is that I don't trust you. No-one here trusts you. And I don't see any reason why they should." She pushed at his chest and his expression hardened.

"You may not trust me, but you still want me," he said fiercely, and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment Emma let him kiss her. It was pleasant, more pleasant than she had anticipated. He tasted good, and the feel of his lean body pressed against hers was something she would have liked to explore. She contemplated kissing him back, but memories of Neal made her push him away. It wasn't time. His kisses became more urgent, and she began to struggle. His arms moved around her and she brought her knee up into his groin, hard. All at once he was ripped away with a cry, tumbling upwards, wrapped in vines that seemed to have descended from the tree. Emma scrubbed her hand across her mouth, breathing hard, and straightened up. Hook was ten feet above her, covered from head to foot in twitching vines.

"Miss Swan?" Her breathing slowed as she saw Gold step out from behind a nearby tree. "Are you alright?"

Emma put her hands on her hips. "Fine," she said acidly. "Were you spying on me?"

"Not at all," he said nonchalantly. "But, for some reason, I don't entirely trust our one-handed friend. I thought I'd follow him." He looked up at the swaying mass of vines.

"I've been dealing with assholes like that since I was thirteen!" she said curtly. "There's no need for you to get involved."

He shrugged. "I have a problem with men who try to force women to do things they don't want to."

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me!" she snapped, and he shrugged again.

"My apologies," he said easily. "Next time, just let me know when he plans to molest you, and I'll stand well back."

He started to walk slowly away, and she grimaced, muttering under her breath, then followed him, slowing her pace to match his.

"Do you think he's changed?" she asked quietly, and he barked a humourless laugh.

"Do you think_ I've_ changed?" he asked, with a grin.

"Yes," she said softly. It was his turn to grimace.

"Well, perhaps we're both trying," he muttered. "But one's true nature is hard to alter."

They reached the camp, and he left her, striding into the darkness along the sands. David and Mary Margaret looked up enquiringly as Emma approached, but she simply sat down beside them, accepting a cup of tea from Regina with a grateful smile. The strangest of alliances, the weirdest of situations. But she was here for Henry, and that meant she could deal with whomever she had to. It meant relying on magic to show them the way.

* * *

"Welcome to Hogwarts," announced Ruby dryly, as she held open the door. Leroy and Astrid hurried in, glancing curiously at the items cluttering the shelves of Gold's shop. Ruby led them into the back room, where Belle was cleaning up the last of the splatters of potion from the floor. She still couldn't work out how it had seemed to increase in volume so much when it had exploded; ingredients amounting to less than two cups had turned into what seemed like gallons of black slime.

"We had a bit of an accident," she explained, at Astrid's politely raised eyebrow. The fairy gave the two of them a sympathetic look.

"I understand," she said, a little breathlessly. "When I cast my first spell I blew off my eyebrows!" She looked at the floor uncomfortably. "And the Blue Fairy's," she added in a whisper. Belle giggled.

"Glad to know I'm in good company," she said, amused, and stowed her mop in its bucket. "Look, Astrid, Leroy says you may be able to help, and I really hope that's true. Has he explained to you what we're trying to do?"

Leroy squeezed Astrid's hand and threw himself onto the small single bed, folding his hands behind his head as he got comfortable. Astrid nodded, shooting Leroy a look and a warm smile, which he returned with interest. Belle shared an amused glance with Ruby and mouthed 'told you'.

"I don't know how much help I'm going to be," went on Astrid, self-consciously. "I've always found magic difficult. I'm so clumsy – I wouldn't want to mess anything up."

"You won't mess up," Leroy assured her. "You'll be amazing!" His eyes sparkled with warmth and trust, and for a moment Belle saw the sweet idealist Dreamy rather than the dour, cynical Grumpy staring out at the world. Astrid blushed and giggled under his scrutiny, and Ruby rolled amused eyes. Belle cleared her throat.

"Astrid, I really hope you can give us some idea of where we're going wrong," she began. "I'm trying to cast this spell, and I thought I'd translated it properly, but something's clearly not right." She showed Astrid the spell, and the fairy read over it quickly, nodding.

"I won't be able to help you cast the spell," she said, reluctantly. "Fairy magic is pure, and this – it wouldn't mix well. Besides, to cast it you need to…"

"I know," said Belle quickly. "I know now that Rumple always meant for me to cast it. I just need some help setting it up." Astrid nodded, obviously relieved.

"What ingredients do you have?" she asked, and Belle shrugged.

"What it said: unicorn hair, powdered obsidian, wine…I thought we had everything." She sighed, biting her lip. "Perhaps it was the _way_ I tried to cast it…"

"Wine?" asked Astrid, confused. "Where's that?"

Belle's forehead creased in concentration as she bent over the book, and pointed to the relevant runes. Astrid put a hand to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"That doesn't mean 'pure wine'," she said. "Although I can see how you mistranslated it. It's not 'wine', it's 'blood'. The runes are almost identical. That's caused some awkwardness in its time, let me tell you."

"Pure blood?" said Ruby, curiously, and Astrid smiled.

"Yes," she explained. "You need the blood of a virgin." She sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised, given the source of this particular spell." She held the grimoire between finger and thumb and as far from her body as possible, as though it were coated in dung.

"Virgin's blood," remarked Ruby, puffing air through her cheeks.

"Well, that can't be too hard, right?" asked Leroy. His voice was hopeful, and Ruby snorted.

"Don't look at me," she said, holding up her hands.

"Me neither," announced Belle, to Leroy's growing horror. "That ship sailed a _long_ time ago."

"Yeah, she and Gold have been doing the nasty for ages," added Ruby, helpfully, and Belle chuckled at Leroy's stricken expression.

"Last time was just yesterday, _very_ passionately," she put in, and pointed a finger at the bed, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Right where you're sitting, in fact."

"Eww, Belle!" complained Ruby, wrinkling her nose. Leroy jumped off the bed as though it had burned him, and Belle and Ruby giggled as he muttered something about 'essence of Gold', and whether he would need to burn his clothing. Belle gave a dramatic shrug.

"The world was ending!" she protested. "I was with the man I love! What were we supposed to do, play Scrabble?"

Astrid giggled nervously, although her cheeks were bright pink. Leroy made a good show of not being able to hear anything Belle was saying.

"So, how do we source virgin's blood?" asked Belle, looking around the group. "Do we just go around the town and ask people?"

"Definitely not Viktor," said Ruby fervently. "If there's anyone that'd be useless to us it's Storybrooke's resident man-whore." Belle bit her lip in amusement. "Not that he isn't cute," added Ruby, a little reluctantly.

"What about Archie?" asked Belle curiously, and Ruby pulled a face.

"I don't know, you know how it's always the quiet ones…?"

"Uh…ladies?" Leroy interrupted them awkwardly, running a hand over the back of his neck nervously. Belle and Ruby turned towards him with sudden, identical grins.

* * *

**A/N – Awww! Bless Leroy's innocent little cotton socks. And I don't apologize for including Astrid – love me some Grova action. I was disappointed there was no Grumpy/Nova reconciliation in the second season.**

**Hands up who else thought Belle and Gold were totally knocking boots before the scene at the docks? I couldn't help thinking that Belle looked a bit rumpled (or should that be Rumpled?) by the side of the Jolly Roger (ahem). Like she says, in that situation, what would you do? (Actually, I wouldn't need the world to be ending to give him a right good seeing-to).**

**Okay, time to confess. I was planning on finishing this before season three started, but my pesky little Once muse keeps popping up and giving me ideas and bits of dialogue I just have to work with. Who am I to argue? So we may keep pottering about in this alternate universe by the time October rolls around. I'll do my best to keep it interesting.**

**If you enjoyed (or not, your call), please let me know…**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N – okay, first, a shout-out to all my lovely reviewers. You're fantastic, supportive, and you make me smile. It's all for you…**

**Coming up, unexpected encounters, dark magic and my answer to the request of the lovely and talented Twyla Mercedes – enjoy, dearies! x**

* * *

Tamara took a long, hard look around her and nodded in satisfaction at the still darkness. The forest was surprisingly noisy at night; the rustle of animals in the undergrowth, the whine and chirp of insects and the high-pitched squeak of bats took a long time to fade into the background and allow one to sleep. She put some more wood on the fire and looked at her companions. The boy had finally stopped crying and complaining and had fallen asleep a little apart from the fire. Greg was stretched out next to her, breathing lightly though his nose. She was tired enough to sleep where she sat, but decided to give him a few more minutes before waking him to take his watch. She reflected on their journey so far; it had admittedly not gone according to plan in Storybrooke, but she thought they had made the best of the situation. She had felt sorry for Greg, finding that his father was dead, but it was no more than she had suspected, once she realised what they were dealing with. She pulled her phone from her pocket. Of course, there was no signal in this land, but it still held information that they needed; maps, instructions, contingency plans. The only concern was the battery. Tamara had switched the phone off as often as possible to conserve its life, but they had taken a wrong turn that day as a result and cost themselves a couple of hours retracing their steps. Greg had scouted ahead after they had made camp, and had whispered to her on his return that the place they sought could be seen from the next ridge up ahead, and looked to be less than half a day's walk. Tamara had shared a smile of satisfaction with him that Henry had watched curiously. There was only one green bar showing at the top right corner of the phone now, but she was confident that they would reach their destination in time. She turned the phone off again and bent to shake Greg's shoulder. He awoke with a slight snort, making her smile, and grinned back at her as he shook off the last of his sleep.

"Any trouble?" he asked quietly, and she shook her head.

"Quiet as the grave," she whispered. "Let me get down there before all the heat goes."

He stood obligingly, allowing her to curl up in the warm hollow left by his body. She was asleep almost immediately, and he smiled down at her fondly, still finding it hard to believe that he had managed to find someone so pretty, clever and so perfectly attuned to him. They made quite the team. He plucked a large, rubbery leaf from the bushes behind him and twisted it into a crude drinking vessel, then strode to the nearby stream to collect some water to make himself a hot drink. The night air was cold. He had his back to the campsite, so he didn't see the tiny white light float down to Henry's sleeping face, touch his forehead and drift away into the darkness once more.

* * *

Several miles from Storybrooke, two four-wheeled drive Land Rovers were making their way along the main road towards the town. Each contained four men dressed for a hunting trip, complete with guns, bright orange vests and camping gear stowed in rucksacks. The young, dark-haired man in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle checked his sat-nav, squinting through black-rimmed glasses.

"Almost there," he said quietly. "What are you expecting when we arrive?"

The driver shrugged, pushing her red hair out of her face and keeping her eyes trained on the road ahead. "Apparently it's ordinary small-town America, until they drop their guard. With those two idiots blowing their cover, it'll be hard for us to get close to anything."

Her companion grunted in agreement, and checked his map. "We're approaching the town line. You'd better pull over."

The driver obeyed, pulling the Land Rover into the side of the road as she heard its twin draw to a stop behind, tyres crunching on pebbles and pinecones. The occupants got out, some carrying briefcases from which they removed electronic equipment and laptops. Up ahead was a sign with "Welcome to Storybrooke" written in flowing script. _Small town America indeed_, thought the driver wryly. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the sign. A red line had been spray-painted across the road. She took a picture of that, too. The man who had been seated next to her strode over to take a look.

"Doesn't look too terrible, does it, Sky?" he remarked, and she frowned.

"All the more reason to fear it, in my experience," she said shortly. "You've read the data that they sent back, Alex. Do you seriously think there's anything here that shouldn't be obliterated?" Without waiting for his response, she turned back towards the others. "Ready the equipment. Mendell said that there's a kind of barrier here keeping the townsfolk in. I want as much information on it as we can get before we progress any further."

"Yes ma'am," they chorused.

* * *

Whale pressed a piece of cotton to Leroy's arm and had him hold it tightly against the skin as he withdrew the needle. A bag of crimson blood hung from a rack beside him. The doctor had been puzzled at the request, and Leroy had looked at Ruby with a silent plea not to divulge the reason for him being the one to donate his blood for the spell. Ruby had not needed his imploring expression to keep her silence.

"Thanks, Viktor," she said briskly. "We can take it from here."

"Very well, ladies," he said smoothly. "Next time you need my help, don't hesitate to call." He picked up his bag, bowed slightly, and strode from the shop.

"Jackass," muttered Leroy. Astrid stroked his arm comfortingly. She looked up at the others, a question on her face, and Belle nodded.

"We'll cast the spell now," she confirmed. "I see no reason to wait."

Astrid bit her lip uncertainly. "Belle, you do realise…"

"I do," said Belle firmly, cutting her off. "I'm ready."

Ruby looked between Astrid and Belle, confused. "I don't – Belle, what are you going to do?"

"It's okay," Belle assured her. "Just get the ingredients we need, I'll be back in a minute." She pushed aside the curtain that separated the shop from the back office, and the three remaining glanced at one another. Ruby shrugged. Leroy did the same. Astrid looked down at her folded hands, swallowing hard.

* * *

When Belle returned, she was holding something wrapped in cloth which she placed on the work table with a dull thud. Astrid flinched. Belle looked over the ingredients, sighed, nodded, then took off her jacket.

"Let's begin," she said quietly. Leroy and Astrid watched from their seat on the edge of the bed as Ruby dropped the ingredients into a new glass jar and Belle set them on fire. Ruby drained a cupful of Leroy's blood from the plastic bag and, once the dry ingredients had burned down to ash, Belle took a deep breath and poured it in. This time, the mixture turned a deep purple as it boiled, sparks of brighter purple swirling within it. When it had boiled for ten minutes, the mixture was thicker and seemed to have a life of its own, globules of potion leaping from the surface and merging in the air to fall back into the whole.

"Put it on the floor, Ruby," said Belle firmly. Confused, but complying immediately, Ruby picked up the jar of potion in towel-wrapped hands and set it on the slightly dusty floorboards.

"Okay." Belle's voice trembled slightly, but she lifted her chin. "Ruby, I need you to sit down next to Astrid. Whatever happens, none of you can touch me, do you understand?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ruby suspiciously.

"What the hell are you doing, Belle?" demanded Leroy. Astrid was silent, eyeing the bundle of cloth on the table.

Belle sighed. "Just trust me," she said levelly. "I have to do this to make the spell work. It's going to hurt, that's all. You can't touch me. If you do – it would be bad. For all of us."

Leroy and Ruby were looking decidedly unsure about this whole plan now, but Astrid raised her head.

"She's right," she said morosely. "To cast the spell, this must be done." Belle met her eyes, and Astrid nodded firmly.

"No time like the present," muttered Belle. Turning slightly, she unwrapped the bundle she had brought, and withdrew a long dagger, its edges strangely fluted, the name of her lover curling along the blade in blackened letters. Astrid swallowed hard, as though she was trying not to vomit. She put her hands out and clutched Ruby's and Leroy's in her own. Belle took a deep breath, held out her arm, and sliced across the palm of her hand with the magical blade. Ruby's cry matched her own as deep red blood spurted over the dagger, and Belle felt tears stinging her eyes as she held the blade against the open wound. The flow of blood stopped almost immediately, and they all watched in surprise as the flesh seemed to knit back together. Belle gazed at her hand, fascinated, as a sudden squirming movement began around the edges of the closing wound. All at once she fell to her knees with a bang and a scream of pain as dark threads seemed to burrow into her like worms, spreading up her arm beneath her skin. Astrid clutched at Leroy and Ruby, keeping them with her as Belle writhed on the floor.

"Oh gods!" she moaned, her entire being wracked with pain. "How does he stand it?" Tears streamed from her eyes and she let out a sob of agony. The dark threads spread across her chest, up her neck, over her cheeks. Belle pushed herself to her knees with effort, throwing her head back, arms outstretched, screaming. Her head suddenly snapped up, and the others could see her eyes had darkened to midnight, almost black. Her entire body trembled until it seemed certain she would shake apart, and then she whipped forward onto her hands and a cloud of darkness poured from her nose and mouth into the jar of potion, a stream of black smoke that seemed to eat the light from the room. The potion inside the jar began to roll and boil, the purplish-black of a thunderhead at twilight. Belle collapsed to the side, dry-heaving, and the others watched anxiously as she lay twitching with shock.

"Belle?" said Ruby uncertainly. Her friend pushed herself up on her hands and knees again. Her eyes were their normal blue, though somewhat haunted.

"Tell me it worked," she said wearily, and Ruby sighed with relief, helping her to her feet and hugging her.

"There's still more to do," ventured Astrid, and Belle gave herself a shake.

"You're right," she said briskly, her pain gone. She looked at the jar of swirling, purple darkness, and picked up the dagger in one hand, along with her translation of the runes in the other. She took a deep breath, held the dagger up in front of her, and in her mind's eye she held a picture of what she wanted to produce, how the town was to be protected. She poured all of her determination and love into the spell she was casting, and dropped down, plunging the dagger into the potion. A bubble of darkness rose up, spreading quickly through the shop and past its walls. The four inside could feel a strange closeness in the air, like the sudden drop in pressure that meant a storm was coming. They felt, rather than heard, a distant _boom_ as the spell reached the outer limits of the town, and Belle broke into a wide grin. They had done it.

* * *

At the town line, the strangers flicked switches, hammered keyboards and twisted small knobs on their equipment as they took readings and tapped out observations. The one called Alex walked slowly towards the sign.

"You should probably wait until we've finished here," called one of his colleagues, and Alex shrugged.

"Our agents had no problems getting in," he pointed out. He strolled across the red line. He wasn't exactly sure what he had expected to feel on crossing a supposedly magical barrier, but nothing wasn't it. He took a few more steps, and was distracted by a rumbling sound, like distant thunder. He peered ahead, trying to look through the thick forest to the side of the road, and gasped as he saw a wave of blackness hurtling towards him. He froze, rooted to the spot for several seconds before coming to his senses and spinning on his heel. The darkness was upon him before he could take another step, and he was thrown to the floor as he heard a dull boom echo around him. Alex opened his eyes and pushed himself up onto his hands.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped, looking around. His colleagues were still looking at their instruments, some of them punching keys with more force than was necessary.

"What the hell's wrong with this thing?" demanded one. "The readings went haywire, and now there's nothing."

"Me too," remarked another. "And the sign's gone. What the…?" He glared at the laptop in his hand. "The town. It's disappeared from the map. What _is_ this?"

"Well, didn't you see that cloud?" asked Alex. They ignored him, and he frowned, getting to his feet. "Guys?"

The driver, Sky, paced back and forwards, glaring at the road in front of her.

"Where the hell is Alex?" she snapped. "I told him not to wander off – has anyone seen him?"

There was a chorus of 'No's and shaken heads, and she huffed impatiently. Alex felt his insides clench with sudden fear. They couldn't see him either, it appeared. After years of studying books and theory and first-hand accounts, he had finally experienced true magic. He pushed his glasses more firmly against his nose, a nervous gesture.

"What readings are we getting?" asked Sky, and the men shook their heads.

"Nothing, ma'am," said one, his expression one of frustration. "There's nothing. It's like the town doesn't exist."

Sky frowned, and took several steps forward. Alex watched as she stepped, not towards him, but somewhere off to the side, as though the road she was seeing bent around the true road. He stepped towards the line, towards his colleagues, but hesitated before stepping over. If they couldn't see him, and they hadn't seen the magic, then it was entirely possible that if he passed the town limits and went back to them, he would not be able to return. He pulled out his phone and tried to call, but the signal had disappeared. Turning back towards the road ahead, and wishing he had thought to bring his rucksack, he shivered once, then set off towards Storybrooke. Perhaps he would find a way to contact his colleagues in the town. At the very least, he reasoned, he could see magic for himself and discover what had become of the two agents that had led them here.

* * *

David, Mary Margaret, Emma and Hook were sleeping by the embers of the campfire. It was supposedly Regina's turn to keep watch, but Gold was also awake, staring into the glowing depths of the fire. She wondered whether he needed sleep.

"The waiting's always the worst," he said suddenly, and she grimaced. She had been trying not to think about what was happening to Henry. He looked up then, the fire throwing light and shadow in sharp angles across his features. "Can you sense the spell?"

She shook her head. "Things are too – strange – here. It'll take me a few more days to get to grips with it."

"Will you be comfortable enough to teleport to where we need to go?"

Regina looked at him. "Perhaps," she allowed. "What's your plan?"

He shrugged. "I suggest that when we get an indication of where Henry is, those of us who are able to use magic to travel go there immediately to take him away."

"And his kidnappers?" Her voice was harsh, and his lips stretched in a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I see no further need for them once we have Henry."

Regina nodded coldly. "The Charmings won't agree to it," she mused. Gold opened his hand, spreading his fingers.

"Hence my magical travel plan," he offered, with a smirk, and she smiled slowly.

"What they don't know won't hurt them," she agreed.

Gold looked up suddenly, just as Regina felt a slight tingling in her skin. Her smile widened as a tiny white light sped towards her and began dancing up and down in front of her face.

"Showtime!" she breathed, her eyes gleaming.

"Is that the spell?" Emma's voice, groggy with sleep, made Regina purse her lips in frustration. She would choose _now_ to wake up.

"It is," confirmed Gold quietly. "Regina and I were just about to teleport to where Henry is."

"I'm coming with you," Emma said, scrambling to her feet. Regina shook her head, glaring at Gold, but to her annoyance he wasn't looking at her. He was eyeing Emma appraisingly, his gaze calculating. Regina knew that look.

"You'll need to be able to teleport," he said mildly.

"So teach me." Her tone was defiant, but it made his smile widen.

"Very well." He gestured towards Regina. "Your Majesty, I believe I'll need your help for this." He held out his hand, fingers beckoning Emma, and she took it hesitantly. Regina sighed in irritation, and took Emma's other hand.

"Feel what we do," murmured Gold. "Feel it. We're going to follow the light. You need to will yourself to come with us. Stay with us, Emma."

Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could feel power building, and started as she recognised the difference between Gold's power and Regina's. Hers was strong, but jagged, sharp-edged, erratic. His was far stronger, and felt like a never-ending black thundercloud of darkness and rage. Frightened, but determined, she felt herself open up to the conflicting powers, felt where Gold was leading her, and willed herself to follow. She held her breath as the three of them disappeared in a cloud of red and purple smoke, the faintest hint of bright blue curling within it.

* * *

Greg drank his pine-needle tea and kept a sharp lookout on the surrounding area, slapping at biting insects as he did so. He loathed the forests. Ever since losing his father on their camping trip to Storybrooke, Greg had hated nature and everything about it. He had nevertheless done well on the wilderness training as part of his initiation into the Home Office, but he was far more comfortable dealing with technology, with modern ways of stopping magic from getting its dirty fingers into human life. He watched Tamara and Henry sleeping beside him, one ear listening to the rustlings of creatures in the undergrowth. He couldn't tell the difference in size between one creature and another, so he didn't realise that someone was creeping up on him until a hand darted past him and grabbed his phone from the ground beside him. Greg jerked upright with a yell, waking Tamara, and lunged for the person responsible. He grasped a thin arm, making its owner cry out, and leapt to his feet. Tamara rushed to his aid, hauling the intruder upright as they kicked and lashed out. Tamara drew a knife and held it against the throat of their captive, who suddenly stilled, breathing deeply.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" demanded Tamara. Greg shook the intruder, receiving a kick to the shins for his trouble.

"I wasn't gonna steal it, I was just looking," came a mutinous voice. Tamara and Greg shared surprised looks. A girl. They dragged her into the firelight. She was small and slight, with short, cropped black hair, her large, dark eyes glaring at them. She was dressed in soft animal skins, long trousers and a sleeveless vest embroidered with a pattern of intersecting lines around the hem. She looked to be about fourteen or fifteen years old.

"How did you know we were here?" asked Greg roughly, and the girl shrugged.

"You're noisy," she sniffed. "And you smell weird, and you clearly have no idea what you're doing. No off-worlders do."

"We've gotten this far," said Tamara coldly, and the girl, to her surprise, chuckled.

"You've only scratched the surface of this place," she said witheringly. "I've been watching you for the past two days and you had no clue I was there."

This was all too true, and Greg and Tamara frowned at one another.

"Well, we'd love to be able to take the time to punish a thief," said Greg lightly, loosening his grip on her arm. "But we have a mission to complete, so if you don't mind, Miss…"

"You don't have to worry about the boy," said the girl disparagingly, and Tamara raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and why's that?"

The girl gave no warning as she bit Tamara's hand, tearing herself away and breaking into a run as her captor clutched her bleeding fingers and swore loudly.

"Because he's already gone, you dumb bitch!" she shouted over her shoulder. Tamara and Greg whirled around, but Henry was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"So, are you going to tell me what the hell that was?" asked Ruby, as she and Belle left the shop. Astrid and Leroy had already gone; Astrid looked decidedly queasy after her proximity to the dagger and Leroy had offered to drive her back to the convent. Ruby had persuaded Belle to accompany her on a run in the hope that it would blow off some of her stress and make her tired enough to sleep that night, so they were going back to change before heading out.

"What?" asked Belle absently, and Ruby frowned at her.

"You. Cutting yourself open and puking black smoke all over the place."

"Oh. That." Belle sighed momentarily. "It was the spell. I don't have any magic of my own, you see, and I couldn't use one of the fairy wands – it would probably have exploded or something with that spell. So I had to use some of Rumple's power – the Dark One's power. That was what the knife was for. I had to use my own body as a sort of catalyst, to let it out." She smacked her lips together. "I can still taste it."

"How does it taste?" asked Ruby, curiously, and Belle looked as though she was pondering how to reply.

"Kind of ozone-y," she decided. "Like the air after lightning strikes. It's not unpleasant. The bad part was how it felt."

"Which was…" Ruby looked a little nervous, and Belle stopped walking, looking at the floor, biting her lip as she tried to put it into words.

"It felt like – darkness and pain and rage and bitterness and…bloodlust," she said uncomfortably. "I was terrified of it. Even for the short time it was in me. I can't imagine feeling that every day and still staying human." She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little.

Ruby gave her a sympathetic look. "You know it's possible though, right?"

Belle smiled, a little tremulously, and squeezed her shoulder. "You're a good friend, Ruby."

"I'm the best," said Ruby, lightly. "Now, when you say it tastes of ozone, is that how he tastes when you – y'know?"

"Ruby!" spluttered Belle, reddening, and the other woman grinned.

"C'mon, I'm trying to take your mind off things!"

"Yeah, well, apparently _your_ mind has only one track."

"Just give me all the gory details and I'll stop pestering you."

"You're such a pervert!"

"You're the one banging the Dark One."

"Doesn't make _me_ a pervert."

The two women continued bickering good-naturedly as they reached Granny's.

* * *

"Where the hell is he?" Greg tore aside ferns and branches in a frantic bid to find Henry. Tamara loped back into the clearing after checking the area immediately surrounding their small camp.

"Nothing," she panted, her eyes wide and anxious. "What the hell do we do now?"

Greg began pacing back and forth, tapping the knuckle of his forefinger against his brow repeatedly as he thought quickly.

"Okay," he said, a little more calmly. "He can't get far. He has no food, no water, no shelter, nothing to protect himself with. We just need to track him down…"

"Before someone else does," finished Tamara, with a sigh.

Greg took her by the shoulders. "It's okay," he said gently, shaking her slightly as if to drive the point home. "We've got time. No-one knows we're here yet."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Regina's drawling voice made them both jump and turn, but she flung her hands towards them, thin black ropes springing towards them from her fingertips and pinioning their arms to their sides. Tamara immediately tried to make a run for it, but Regina flipped a contemptuous hand in her direction and she was pitched face-first onto the forest floor. She spat pine needles and dead leaves from her mouth, the breath knocked from her body. Regina gestured again and Tamara and Greg were pushed up against a nearby tree trunk in a sitting position. Regina curled her lip as she looked down at the prisoners, Gold and Emma to either side of her.

"How the hell did you follow us?" demanded Greg, glaring pure hatred at her. "How are you even alive?"

Regina smiled. "Well, you of all people should know that there's nothing more important than family," she said softly. Greg swallowed hard, rage flitting across his face. "And it appears that the more good deeds I do, the more my family want to help me," she added. Her face had a look of surprise at her own words, but she smiled sweetly. Greg felt that the smile did not bode well for him.

Emma stepped forward then, glaring down at Tamara. She could hardly bring herself to speak, but forced herself to remain calm.

"What are we going to do about Henry?" she asked, and Gold pursed his lips, considering. He quirked an eyebrow at Regina, and she nodded, lifting her finger to produce a small light just as she had earlier. She blew on it and it darted off into the undergrowth.

"We wait," said Gold simply, and planted his cane in front of him firmly, looking as though he was ready to stand in one position all night.

"He's not here," said Tamara scornfully. "You've wasted your time, we don't have him."

Gold walked slowly towards the prisoners and squatted down beside them, his gaze crawling over their faces. They eyed him nervously, glances flicking back to Emma, to Regina.

"We know you had him," blurted Emma, her fists clenching and unclenching. "We know you had him because we tracked you here."

"And how did you do that?" Greg's voice was amused and dismissive. "Magic? Don't you realise it won't help you in this? It can only destroy what you love."

"And what you hate," added Gold, with a humourless smile. He eyed the two of them closely. "You were going somewhere," he said. "You were taking Henry there. Tell us where, and why."

"You'll get nothing out of us," said Greg disdainfully, and Gold chuckled.

"I do so love a challenge," he purred.

"Gold." Regina's voice was cold and brittle. He turned to face her, and she shook her head. "There's nothing. The spell – it's just – disappeared." She looked genuinely shaken, and he frowned. He lifted a finger and sent out his own spell, questing through the trees and bushes for Henry. There was silence as the group waited for its return. Gold felt a tiny, sharp prickle at the back of his consciousness and the spell unravelled. His frown deepened.

"You seem to be having a problem with magic," suggested Greg, a smug grin spreading across his face. Maybe that'll teach you what we already know. That it's evil. That those who use it are evil. That they're servants of darkness and must be punished." He seemed to leer at Regina as he spoke, seemingly with no doubt in his mind as to who he wanted to punish first. Regina snorted and rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Do you have any idea how incredibly medieval you sound?" she drawled, her dark eyes raking over him disdainfully. "You must be so disappointed that the Inquisition no longer holds any power. I can just imagine the two of you working the rack to extract confessions from innocent people."

"Innocent!" spat Greg. "No-one who uses magic is innocent!"

Regina shrugged. "No-one who uses magic would allow themselves to be racked," she pointed out. "Magic is not the problem here. Intolerance is."

"It's unholy," declared Tamara, her eyes snapping with hatred as she supported her lover. "None of us will stop until it's wiped from every world we can get to! You can kill the two of us and a thousand more will take our places."

Emma gazed at the woman bound and defiant before them, her anger at Tamara's actions momentarily overshadowed by her curiosity at what had driven the two of them to think as they did, and who else they might be working with.

"Fanatics," sighed Gold, shaking his head sadly, as though he pitied them. Perhaps he did, though Emma doubted it. "Always so predictably self-sacrificing! Hypocritical, too." He sat back on his heels, one hand on his cane. "You claim to despise magic in all its forms, and yet you were more than happy to use a magic bean to achieve your own ends. You say that human beings should not harness forces they shouldn't be able to control, and yet you used electricity for your own purposes, to torture Regina." He smiled unpleasantly, leaning forward slightly and making Greg push back against the tree. "That little electrocution device of yours. Crude, but moderately effective. Of course, you didn't get the information you wanted, but you did cause the Queen a great deal of pain, which I'm sure was your primary motive anyway."

"I wanted to find my father," spat Greg, shifting in his bonds.

"You wanted to torture someone." Gold's voice was soft, almost a caress. "You wanted the power over her, the power you felt she took from you. I understand that. I understand how seductive that can be. Unfortunately for you, so does Regina." His voice became a deadly whisper, and Emma stiffened as she saw his eyes darken, a curiously mischievous light shining in them. "She's done it herself, you see. Countless times. She would never have given you what you wanted. She would never have given you the satisfaction of breaking."

"Damn right," put in Regina, coldly.

"Your methods," continued Gold, his voice pleasant, his eyes cruel. "Simply weren't effective enough."

"And no doubt yours are," said Tamara, her voice laced with scorn. Emma had credited her with more intelligence.

Gold grinned at her. "But of course. I have had over three hundred years to perfect them. I'm sure we'll find something that works." He stroked a finger across her cheek, and she wrenched her head away, looking revolted, and a little afraid.

Emma tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"

He straightened up, face impassive, and walked off with her, out of earshot of the prisoners. She turned to face him, and his raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"No torture," she said firmly. "We'll get the information from them another way."

"How, exactly?" he asked sarcastically. "Appeal to their better natures? Have you forgotten what they did? She killed my Baelfire!" His voice lowered, his gaze searching. "She killed Henry's father," he whispered. "She killed your true love."

"I haven't forgotten anything!" hissed Emma fiercely. "But I won't become a monster because of it! And nor should you!"

"Oh, I've been a monster for a very long time, dearie," he breathed, showing his teeth.

She shook her head. "You changed. Belle changed you, remember? Don't go back to what you were before. She wouldn't want it. _Neal_ wouldn't want it."

He sighed and dropped his gaze, leaning heavily on his cane. "Another beautiful woman trying to save my soul," he said dryly. "A fool's errand, but your efforts are appreciated, however futile. What do you suggest we do to get the information?"

Emma ran her hands over her face tiredly. "I don't know, let me think. First we need to get them back to the ship and secure them somehow. Lock them up. Maybe we can use the mirror again." Gold nodded thoughtfully.

"In that case we should get moving. No doubt your parents are already worried." Emma watched him closely as he turned back to the prisoners. His expression was neutral, and he seemed calm, but Regina was emanating fury. She could be a problem.

"How do you propose we get them there, Gold?" demanded Regina. "It's not as though we can teleport with all three of them." Emma bristled at being lumped in with Greg and Tamara, but accepted that Regina probably had a point about the transportation problems.

"Then we shall walk," said Gold mildly. "Ensure they're bound fast, Your Majesty, but not so fast they can't make their own way there." He breathed into his cupped palm, then, and Emma gasped as a tiny red bird flew out of it with a high-pitched twittering and shot away from them. She looked enquiringly at Gold, and he shrugged.

"A message to your mother." He raised his hand, gesturing extravagantly, and produced a ball of light in cold bluish-white.

"Now, Emma, would you like me to show you how to get back to the camp again?" His voice was soft, but there was a measuring look in his eyes, a calculating glint that she didn't entirely trust.

"Uh – sure – I mean, yeah, I would," she said, trying to make her words sound more assured as she finished the sentence. He crooked his finger, and she approached him warily.

"I need to find your parents," he said softly. "So I will sending a tiny piece of magic out from myself to do so."

"Like the spell Regina used?" guessed Emma, and he smiled.

"The very same. Watch, and try to feel what I do." His grin widened, his eyebrows twitching. "You can even join in, if you like."

Unsure as to how he could make that sound like something dirty, she closed her eyes, ridding herself of distractions, and reached out towards him with her mind. She could feel his power, could feel the tiniest bit of it peel off as thoughts of her parents filled her head. Experimentally, she tried shoving the tiny piece of magic away from her, and gasped as she opened her eyes to see a tiny white light streaking away from them in the darkness. She noted that it moved far quicker than Regina's had, and she wondered whether it was just that Gold's magic was stronger, or that she had helped.

"Very well done, Emma," said Gold softly. She was breathing deeply, and Regina was watching her, her face inscrutable.

"Ready when you are, Gold," was all she said. She had left the ropes she had conjured on Greg and Tamara, and a faint purple light also surrounded them. Emma raised an eyebrow at her.

"What the hell's that?" she asked bluntly, and Regina smiled unpleasantly.

"They won't be able to move unless we wish it, and we won't be able to hear any of their pointless ranting and whining," she said, in a self-satisfied way.

It took only a few minutes for the spell to return, dancing in front of Emma and Gold as it waited for them to follow. Emma smiled at its enthusiasm, and Gold cast a dubious eye over the thick undergrowth they would have to journey through.

"Well, I'm not spending the entire evening blasting bushes out of my way," he snapped, clearly irritated. "If we have to pick our way through the jungle, I should probably change." He waved his hands and red smoke covered him momentarily. When it cleared Emma gasped, Regina rolled her eyes, and Tamara and Greg curled disdainful lips. Gold's customary three-piece suit had disappeared, replaced by tight leather pants in a brown so dark it was almost black, tucked into laced knee-boots. On top he wore a shirt in rust-coloured silk, open at the neck beneath a short, fitted leather waistcoat and high-collared jacket in a slightly lighter brown than the trousers. The sides of the jacket and, she suspected, the waistcoat, were split and laced in leather, allowing for freedom of movement. The shades of his new clothing would fade easily into the jungle undergrowth, not to mention that the leather would not be bothered by thorns, and Emma debated whether she should ask him to change her own clothes. He looked – different, she thought. His features and hair had not changed, but there was an amused, mischievous light in his eyes that she had previously only seen flashes of. He had not lost any of his dark authority with his suit, but now he seemed – wilder, more unpredictable. She could not decide whether this was a good thing or not. His magic light shot up into the air in front of them, showing the way, and Emma and Regina hauled on the ropes securing Greg and Tamara.

"Shall we?" asked Gold, gesturing in front of them.

Emma gave him an appraising look as he stalked away through the trees, her head slightly to one side as she looked over his slim form in its tight leather covering. He may be many things, she mused. Calculating, dangerous, infuriating, mercurial and ruthless, but there was no denying that Gold had a mighty fine ass.

* * *

**I'm giving you fair warning my lovelies – I will try my best to update next weekend, but I'm teaching, so I may not have the time. If not the update will be up as soon as humanly possible. Hope you enjoyed. Please review if so. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N – things I own:**

**My house, albeit with a large mortgage**

**My cat – actually, who am I kidding, no-one ****_owns_**** a cat**

**So, to clarify: **

**I do not own my house, the bank does. **

**I do not own my cat, he deigns to grace me with his presence every now and then to get fed and have his ears scratched. **

**I certainly do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters (sigh).**

**I'm such a loser…**

* * *

Ruby and Belle jogged through the town, water bottles in hand, and made their way out along one of the dirt tracks that criss-crossed the woods around Storybrooke.

"We'll go out for half an hour and then head back," suggested Ruby, and Belle nodded her agreement. Ruby picked up the pace and little was said, for which Belle was grateful. She was enjoying the feel of the wind in her face, losing herself in the rhythm of her pumping legs, the steady padding of her feet against the soft earth. It had been a while since she had been running, and she had missed it. She had frequently joined Ruby for a run before being shot, but after that she had been in the hospital, and as Lacey she had spent every morning too hung over to even contemplate it. She had always been discouraged from running in the Enchanted Forest; ever since she had reached the age of twelve she had been admonished for moving at a pace quicker than a stately walk. This world certainly had a lot to recommend itself, in its freedom for women to run as fast as they pleased and in the clothes that allowed them to do so in comfort. When Ruby abruptly changed direction after twenty minutes or so and started heading west, Belle followed. A fine drizzle was falling, soaking them through, and Belle welcomed the coolness of the water against her flushed cheeks. After a while Ruby led them out of the forest onto one of the roads leading to the town, and the two women paused for breath, Belle bending over and pushing her hands against her thighs as she gulped for air. She felt a little out of shape compared to her friend, but was confident that she could soon remedy that.

"Let's head back," said Ruby, taking a gulp of her water. "I vote hot chocolates and bear claws at Granny's."

"Sounds good," agreed Belle, and straightened up, settling into a loping stride as she followed her friend back to the town.

They had been running for perhaps five minutes when they saw someone ahead of them, stumbling along the road. Squinting through the rain, which had ceased to be drizzle and was now a full-blown downpour, Belle could see the orange vest and camouflage pants of a hunter. She exchanged a curious look with Ruby, and the two slowed to a halt.

"Hey!" called Ruby, and the man turned to face them. He was young, in his late twenties or early thirties, and thin, with dark hair and black-rimmed glasses making him look a little nerdy. He didn't appear to be carrying anything, and Belle raked her eyes over him curiously. Surely if he was on a hunting trip he would have guns, supplies? For Alex's part, he was shocked to find himself facing two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, slender and long-limbed, their dark hair framing pale faces, wide-eyed and full-lipped. His first, irrational thought was that they were sirens, or some other hideous magical beings, but he reasoned that sirens probably wouldn't be wearing sweat pants and trainers.

"Oh, thank God!" he said desperately. "I was starting to think this road didn't lead anywhere. Is there a town nearby?"

Belle and Ruby gave him identical, suspicious frowns.

"What are you doing here?" asked Belle, bluntly, and he looked around himself somewhat wildly.

"I – I'm lost," he stammered. "I came out on a hunting trip, and my truck broke down where I was camping, and – and I just started walking until I found this road. I have no idea how long I've been walking." He let out a short, nervous laugh. "Can you help me? I just need to get to a phone." He didn't have to fake the shiver that ran through him.

Ruby's face softened slightly, and she exchanged a brief look with Belle before nodding. "Sure, we can get you to a phone," she agreed. "The town's this way. I'm Ruby, and this is Belle."

Belle nodded cautiously. The man pushed his glasses up on his nose, smiling a little tremulously.

"I'm Alex," he offered. "Alex Talbot."

* * *

It took Emma and the others most of the night to find their way back to the campsite, and by the time they reached it Greg and Tamara were finding it hard to put one foot in front of the other. Emma herself was biting back yawns as she heard the pull of the waves and realised that they were almost there. Sure enough, she saw the faint glow of a camp fire through the trees, and stumbled along behind Gold until they reached the clearing. Mary Margaret immediately jumped up with a cry of relief and threw her arms around her daughter.

"We got your message," she said a little breathlessly, looking curiously at the bound prisoners. "Where's Henry?"

"That is very much the question of the day," said Gold dryly. He gestured with his cane as Regina removed the spell preventing Greg and Tamara from talking. "We need to get these two back to the ship and secure them, so that we can find the information that we need, regroup, and find him."

David and Hook had woken, and scrambled to their feet, yawning.

"I feel my services are once again required," observed Hook. He gave Greg and Tamara a bow, a sardonic smile on his face. "We meet again. Sorry to disappoint you with my actions, but alliances have always been something – fluid, in my opinion."

Tamara glared at him. "I suppose we couldn't expect anything better from such a coward," she spat, and Hook's face darkened.

"Come on," Emma took his arm, pulling him away. "Let's get back to the ship, okay?"

He grumbled something, but allowed himself to be turned around and led towards the beach. David and Mary Margaret took over the prisoners' bonds, and Regina followed on wearily, clutching the magic Mirror. Gold kicked dirt over the fire to extinguish it, frowning at the ash smearing his boots. He straightened up, looked around the clearing, and smiled briefly.

"You can come out now, little one," he said calmly, and grinned as a nearby bush quivered. A small, slight figure, dressed in animal skins and topped with a shock of black hair, rose up.

"How did you know I was there?" she demanded, scowling at him. He shrugged.

"Call it intuition," he offered. "Why were you following us?"

She fidgeted. "I saw you take them," she said, pointing towards the beach. "I didn't like them either. They had a boy with them, but I could tell he didn't want to be there. I distracted them and he got away."

Gold frowned. "You saw Henry?"

She put her head to the side, her gaze calculating. "Why are you looking for him?"

"He's my grandson," he said simply, and she nodded.

"I don't know where he went," she said reluctantly. "But if you like I could try and find him for you. I know these islands like the back of my hand. I can be your guide." Her eyes had narrowed somewhat, and he chuckled.

"What's your price?" he asked, amused, and she grinned, showing very white, even teeth.

"Food, shelter, protection, and your promise that you'll help _me_ find someone," she announced. Gold looked her over, pretending to consider.

"I think that can be arranged," he agreed, and put out his hand. "We have a deal."

Her small, brown hand gripped his with surprising strength.

"What's your name?" she asked, and he dropped her hand.

"My name is Mr Gold," he said softly. "And yours?"

She hesitated momentarily. "Lily," she said eventually, and he nodded. She was holding something back, he could tell, but he wasn't going to push it.

"Well, Lily, if you would care to accompany me, I shall introduce you to the rest of Henry's family," he gestured towards the beach, and she darted away in front of him.

* * *

"Who's this?" asked Mary Margaret curiously, as Gold followed the young girl down to the beach. She stiffened as seven pairs of eyes looked her over, then raised her small chin defiantly.

"This is Lily," explained Gold. "She created the distraction that allowed Henry to escape our prisoners. She has graciously agreed to act as our guide here in Neverland, in exchange for food, protection and our assistance in finding someone."

Mary Margaret immediately sent the girl a warm smile, and beckoned her closer. Introductions were hurriedly made.

"Is she one of the – Lost?" asked Emma, and Lily pulled a face. Hook snorted.

"All the Lost Ones are boys," he said. "She's a redskin."

Emma and Mary Margaret looked as though their eyes were about to start from their heads.

"You can't say _that!_" choked Mary Margaret. Hook eyed her curiously.

"Why not?" he asked, nonplussed.

"We don't use that term back home," said Emma, as though she was trying to explain two plus two equals four to a particularly stupid child. "We call them Native Americans."

"But she isn't a Native American," Hook pointed out, gesturing around them and looking genuinely confused. "This is Neverland. She's a redskin. That's what the natives here are called."

"Actually, that's what the Lost Ones and men like _you_ call us, pirate," said Lily stiffly, somehow managing to look down her nose at him despite coming no higher than his chest. "Our true name is the People."

Hook swept a mocking bow. "My apologies, Your Highness, O Most Noble of the People," he taunted, with a glint in his dark eyes. "Just promise me that if I let you on my ship you won't steal anything that's not nailed down."

She gave him a lofty nod. "It would be the height of rudeness when we have a deal."

"Actually, you made the deal with me," said Gold, and jerked his head towards Hook. "Steal anything of his that takes your fancy."

Hook's splutter of outrage was covered by David and Emma pushing the rowing boat into the shallow waters off shore and yelling at everyone to take their places.

* * *

Ruby pushed open the door of Granny's diner, grinning to a few of the patrons. Alex hovered on the doorstep and Belle gave him a gentle shove, making him stumble through the entrance. The chatter in the diner faded and died as everyone turned and looked at the stranger. Belle groaned inwardly. Trying to convince someone he was in a normal town was not helped by what could have been a scene from a western. All it needed was a tumbleweed blowing across the room.

"Hi," said Alex nervously, pushing at his glasses again.

"This is Alex," announced Ruby. Leroy and Anton were sitting at the bar, staring at Alex as though he had two heads. She grasped his shoulder, making him jump. "C'mon, the phone's through here." He followed her obediently, and Belle closed her eyes as the scrape of chairs filled the room, the diner's occupants getting to their feet and surrounding her.

"Who the hell _is_ he?" hissed Leroy, his eyes furious. "I thought the spell worked!"

"It _did!_" she hissed back, frowning. "But if he was already inside the town limits when it hit, it wouldn't affect him, would it!"

"So, what do we do?" asked Tom, pausing to sneeze loudly. Belle sighed.

"He says he just wants to phone for help," she said. "Sooner he does that, sooner he's out of here."

"Assuming the phones work," said Leroy moodily. "And even if they do, how's he gonna get a ride when the town _doesn't appear on any maps!_"

Belle bit her lip. This was going to be more complicated than they had thought.

"Look, sit down, all of you," she whispered. "We don't need him thinking we're any weirder than he does already. We'll figure something out." It sounded pretty feeble as a plan to her, but to her surprise the townsfolk settled back into their chairs, grumbling slightly. Belle looked up as Ruby led Alex back into the room. The other diners averted their eyes, pretending an interest in their food and newspapers but all the time shooting surreptitious glances at the stranger when he was looking the other way.

"Since the phones aren't working and there's no signal for my cell," the dark-haired woman was saying brightly. "You can stay here tonight. Granny has plenty of empty rooms. I'm sure it was just that electrical storm earlier. We'll be back in contact with the rest of the world soon enough."

"I – I guess," he said uncertainly. Ruby pulled him towards the door.

"Come on, I'll show you to a room, and you can get settled in," she said kindly, shooting an alarmed look at Belle once he was out of her line of sight. Belle sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling in the hope that she'd find inspiration there.

* * *

Dawn was breaking as Hook began rowing, a faint pink light spreading across the surface of the ocean and bathing everything with its warm glow. Once they were back at the ship, Greg and Tamara were locked in one of the rooms on the lower deck, still bound with the ropes Regina had conjured. The others clustered in the captain's quarters, and Mary Margaret arranged fruit, dried meat and biscuits on a tin plate and set it before Lily, who set to with a will. Regina placed the Mirror on the table.

"I guess we try again," she suggested, and Emma nodded, rolling up her sleeve. Regina shook her head. "My turn," she said insistently, and put out her hand for a knife. Mary Margaret handed over one of her own, and Regina sliced her palm open with a hiss, allowing the blood to trickle onto the Mirror's surface before healing herself. Gold waved his hand so that the Mirror swept up into the air and hung before them. Lily chewed as she watched with interest, seemingly unfazed by the magic being wielded.

"Show me Henry," said Regina loudly. The surface of the Mirror swirled in colours just as before, but this time no image formed. She shared a brief, worried glance with Gold. "Show me Henry!" Regina's voice was a little panicked. Nothing.

Gold frowned, and Emma gasped, clutching at Mary Margaret. If Henry could not be seen, did it mean that he was no longer…?

"What's happened?" she asked desperately. "Is he dead? Gold!"

He held up a placating hand. "It's a magical barrier," he said grimly. "He's been taken. That's why the spells wouldn't work. They know we're here. They know we have the Mirror. They've shielded themselves, somehow."

"Fairies," said Lily knowledgeably, her voice somewhat muffled through a mouthful of apple. Gold scowled. Regina let out a noise almost like a growl, and snatched the Mirror from the air, carrying it to the far side of the room and laying it on the floor beneath a bench.

"Bring the globe," he said curtly, and Emma rushed up to the deck of the ship, returning in a few minutes with the globe held in front of her.

"Let me," she almost snapped, as Gold lifted his finger towards the spike at the top. He nodded assent, and she pricked the pad of her forefinger on the globe, letting a drop of blood fall onto its surface. Magic flowed in crimson swirls, but no map formed and after a minute or so the red mist dissipated. Emma hung her head in frustration, her long hair brushing the table. Regina touched her shoulder tentatively, squeezing with her fingertips.

"So what happens now?" asked David, grimly. Gold sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"We do things the old-fashioned way," he said wryly, and cocked his head at Lily. "It seems we'll soon be in need of your services, little one."

She shrugged, pushing a few crumbs around her empty plate. "Don't think much of your supper."

His eyebrows twitched. "Why, what was wrong with it?"

"Weren't big enough."

Gold chuckled. "Miss Blanchard, would you please give our guest some more?"

As Mary Margaret brought out more food, the others pulled chairs up to the table and began eating. Hook opened a bottle of wine, frowning at Lily when she held up a wooden mug and giving her water instead. There was silence for a while as they all ate and drank, lost in their own thoughts.

"Greg and Tamara weren't wandering aimlessly," said David, crunching into an apple. "They had a plan. They were taking him somewhere. Could that be where he is now?"

"Could be," agreed Gold. "We should question them. Perhaps a night of hunger and cold will make them more amenable."

Mary Margaret looked displeased, but nodded her agreement. "As long as we don't use more extreme methods," she muttered, and David and Emma nodded. Gold sighed.

"This way will be far less effective than some I could use, I can assure you," he said flatly. "But I had a feeling that would be your opinion on the matter."

"I don't want to have to torture people to get my son back," said Emma, and he shrugged, as though it made no difference to him.

"I suggest we get some rest while we can," said David. "We can question them in the morning."

"I don't know where the Lost Ones make their camp," admitted Hook, rolling his wineglass back and forth between his fingertips. "But I do know which side of the island they're usually found. I could sail the ship there. It's a start."

David nodded gratefully. Mary Margaret tapped Lily on the shoulder and drew her from the room, telling her that she would find a place for her to sleep. Five minutes later she was back, sliding into the chair next to David's.

"We'll get some answers tomorrow," David assured her, taking a bite of biscuit and wincing at the texture. Gold and Regina shared glances.

"You won't get anything out of them," said Regina scornfully, her dark eyes disdainful and her full lips curled into a sneer. She folded her arms, red-lacquered fingernails tapping against her elbow. "You've seen what they're like. They're zealots. They won't tell you anything; they'd far rather die as what they deem to be martyrs."

Gold sat forward, elbows on the table and fingers laced together, his gaze intense. "I have to agree with Regina," he said quietly. "If you think you can get them to talk by locking them up for a couple of days, you're sorely mistaken."

David threw down the remains of his biscuit and leant on the table. "Look," he said. "I know they've hurt you – both of you – and I'm sorry." His face was earnest, steadfast, and Gold knew with certainty that he would not change his position. "But I won't get my grandson back by turning to darkness. I _will _get the information from them. It just might take a little longer than we thought."

"As much as I hate to admit it," drawled Hook. "The crocodile has a point. Why would they tell you anything?" He was lounging in his chair, arms behind his head and feet up on the table. "Tell you what." His voice was suddenly playful. "If you can get them to talk, I'll snog Rumplestiltskin." His eyebrows twitched. "Tongues and all."

"You most assuredly will not!" snarled Gold, eyes flashing darkly. Hook grinned.

Mary Margaret put her head in her hands with a groan. "No scary visuals right before I go to bed, please!"

"In the meantime, who suffers?" asked Regina dryly. "Henry has been kidnapped!" She looked at Emma. "Don't tell me you agree with this, Miss Swan?"

Emma sighed, squared her jaw. "I do," she said abruptly. "The alternative – Henry wouldn't want it."

"Then there's no more to be said." Gold's voice was mild, final. "Good luck, Your Highnesses. I look forward to a swift resolution to our problems." He smiled, but there was little warmth in it.

"Well, if the decision's been made…" Hook got to his feet, stomping out of the room and up the stairs onto the deck. David nodded, and beckoned to Snow, leading her from the room and down to the lower deck. Emma pushed back her own chair and stood. The ship lurched suddenly and she clutched at the wall, looking queasy.

"What the hell?" she muttered. She turned on her heel and took the stairs two at a time, clambering up on deck to find Hook at the wheel, squinting into the rising sun.

"What the hell are you doing?" she shouted, and he grinned at her.

"It's best we keep moving," he called. "Sitting still makes us – well – a sitting target."

She glared at him, clutching at her stomach, and opened her mouth to curse fluently. Instead she bit down on the inside of her cheek and groaned as she lunged for the side of the ship, thankfully leaning over the side before she threw up spectacularly. Hook winced, drawing air in over his teeth in a low whistle. Emma spat several times, furious with herself, and took some deep, calming breaths.

"You seem to be having some discomfort, Miss Swan." Gold. She hated his calm, unflappable voice with the suspicion of a smug grin hidden behind it. She straightened up and glared at him.

"Can't you do something about this?" she demanded, and he smiled thinly.

"But of course," he said easily. She scowled.

"So why have you been letting me suffer?" she spat, and his smile widened.

"You didn't ask for my help," he said simply. "Am I given to understand that you wish to be free of your seasickness?"

"Yes," she growled. "You are _given to understand _that, you asshole." Her tone was biting, but he was unruffled. He merely stood, watching her. Waiting. She let her shoulders slump, sighing.

"What's your price?" she asked wearily, and he grinned, stepping towards her, leaning in as though he was about to let her in on a secret.

"At some point in the near future," he said softly, his free hand gesturing, fingers spreading and curling, "I will do something of which you will not approve." He showed his teeth. "I need you to – let it slide." His hand swept to the left, palm downwards. Emma frowned. Knowing him, that could be absolutely anything.

"Okay," she said stonily. "Just do it, Gold."

He chuckled, and his hand twisted around itself, purple light shining from it, before he placed it on her forehead. Emma gasped as the nausea disappeared. He smirked and turned on his heel.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Swan," he threw over his shoulder. Emma couldn't help feeling that she had agreed to something she shouldn't have. Hook's frown told her he thought the same thing.

* * *

"This is getting us nowhere!" David stormed into the captain's quarters, running frustrated fingers through his hair. He had been questioning Greg and Tamara for hours, but they had simply sat there in silence, smirking at him. He had tried hard not to lose his temper, but when Greg began whistling as though he couldn't even hear David, the Prince had finally stomped out of the room. First blood to the prisoners.

"I did warn you," said Gold mildly, sitting in Hook's chair with his legs crossed, a book folded in his lap. "In situations like these, we just have to go with what we know."

"We don't know anything!" spat David, throwing himself into a chair. "We don't know who they're working for, we don't know why they came here, we don't know where they were going, and most importantly, we don't know where Henry is."

Gold shrugged slightly with a grin, as if to say he hadn't meant the information in their possession.

"I offered them some food," said Mary Margaret, sidling into the room, arms folded across her chest. "I can tell they're starving, but they tried hard not to react."

"So we starve them some more, and maybe they come around?" asked Regina, nostrils flaring. "And in the meantime, where the hell is my son? He could be dead for all we know!" She pushed herself up from the table, fingers wiggling as though she was itching to curse someone.

"They can't hold out much longer," Mary Margaret said gently, putting a hand on her arm. Regina shook it off, her lip curling.

"Whatever," she said coldly. "I'm going up on deck."

Emma slipped into the room, frowning after Regina as the older woman barged into her on her way out.

"What's got her panties in a wad?" she remarked flatly. Mary Margaret sighed.

"She thinks we should be pressing Greg and Tamara more – firmly," she explained. Her eyes dropped to the floor, her face worried. "And maybe she's right."

"Snow!" David looked shocked, but she held up a hand.

"David, I don't agree with torture, no more than you do," she began. "But there has to be something we can do to get the information from them."

Emma looked up suddenly. "Gold," she said sharply. "Can you – cast some sort of spell? Read their minds? Anything?"

He whistled, tutting under his breath. "Spells that touch on the mind are tricky things," he said quietly. "I can certainly do it, but they may not be – quite whole – afterwards."

"Okay, so that's plan B," said David grimly. "If I can't get anything from them today, Gold, I want you to try."

"As you wish." Gold turned back to his book, as though the conversation bored him.

* * *

The prisoners maintained their silence throughout the day, much to David and Mary Margaret's frustration. They were given water and taken separately from the locked room to wash and use the bathroom, although after Tamara had punched Mary Margaret in the stomach and tried to escape, Regina ensured there were magical restraints on them at all times. Hook had anchored the ship off shore in a different bay of the island, claiming that it was usually clear of the Lost Ones, as the redskin villages were nearby. Lily had remained below deck in her cabin ever since they had sailed into the bay, and Emma wondered if she was in hiding from her own people. After dinner, and having discussed their predicament at length, David confirmed with a sigh that he could see no alternative but to use magic to get the information, which dragged a wide, wicked smile from Regina that made Emma frown suspiciously. They began to drift from the room, Hook's boots sounding hollowly on the stairs as he made his way up on deck.

Gold sat at the table, fingertips tapping together over the handle of his cane, a muscle ticking at the corner of his eye the only sign of the fury raging within him at Henry's capture. He tried to calm himself, although there was only Emma to see if he lost it completely. He had hoped, when they only had Greg and Tamara to deal with, that getting Henry back would be easy, but now things had changed for the worse. Fingers tightened on his cane until the knuckles were white, and he tried to rein in his anger towards the two people who had come to his town and torn all their lives apart, killed his son, kidnapped his grandson, taken him from his true love. He needed to remain calm if he was to deal with them appropriately. It certainly would not do to lose his temper and kill them quickly. The process of swallowing his rage was almost like meditation; he concentrated on something that gave him pleasure, pictured it until it was real as life, and buried the anger within, pushing it down into the pit of his stomach. He decided to imagine flaying Hook alive. The pirate would need to be tied down; the trees at the edge of the shoreline would work admirably. He would do it himself, without magic, just with a knife. There would be a certain satisfaction in cutting into Hook's flesh and getting blood on his hands. He would start at the feet, and work upwards; he wondered idly if he would be able to do the pirate in one, long strip. Hook would try to be staunch, try not to scream, but he would, in the end. They all did, eventually. They all cried and screamed and begged for mercy, for death. It had been some time, but it wasn't as though he'd forgotten how. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he recalled that they were on the ocean. Salt water might be a deliciously excruciating addition. His focus returned as his breathing eased and he was calm once more, and he noticed Emma watching him warily, almost as though she could read his mind. He gave her a wolfish grin and she started, turning away hurriedly. He sighed slightly as he realised the depths his mind had plumbed. It was getting harder, the longer he was apart from Belle, harder to keep the Dark One buried. She had always managed to calm him, to keep his best self at the surface; even on the rare occasions when his temper broke free with bone-crushing force she could bring him back from the edge. Part of him was concerned that, without her, he was capable of anything. Part of him welcomed it.

Emma drained the cup of wine she was holding, and looked over at Gold. He was sitting with his eyes closed, hands folded in front of him, almost a meditative posture. She wondered what he was thinking about, or whether his mind was blessedly blank. She doubted it. His eyes flicked open, making her start.

"May I help you, Miss Swan?"

Emma jerked her head towards the Mirror. "Have you talked to Belle?"

"No." His voice was clipped, blunt. She frowned.

"Why not? Don't you want her to know you're okay?" His face remained impassive, and her frown deepened. "Don't you want to know that _she's_ okay?" His mouth twitched at that, and she pressed her advantage. "She'll worry, you know."

"She needn't." He let his head roll back with a sigh. "It's better this way."

Emma felt like shaking him. "So – what? You're letting her go for her own good?"

"Something like that."

Emma rolled her eyes. "God, _save_ me from guys who think they know what's best for us girls!"

"Has it ever occurred to you, dearie, that I may have a very good reason for doing what I'm doing?" he said acidly.

"Don't be an ass, Gold," she snapped, and he looked up, surprised. "Credit your girlfriend with at least knowing her own mind. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that she loves you, and that the feeling's mutual. So, while the rest of us may think 'ew' about the whole thing, don't let it slip away."

"Like you did?" he said softly, and she grimaced.

"Yeah." Her voice was gruff, but she met his eyes. "I told him, you know. Before he fell. There's that, at least."

"I'm glad." His face softened slightly. "The two of you were well-matched."

"As are you and Belle," she said insistently. She turned and picked up the Mirror, holding it out to him. "_Call her_. And when we get back to Storybrooke, man up and make an honest woman of her. She won't wait around for ever for you to grow a pair, you know?"

He huffed a little at that, but took the Mirror from her. Emma smirked and strode from the room to leave him to it.

* * *

**A/N: Turns out my Once muse works weeknights as well as weekends, so I've been able to update as planned!**

**I've seen the first two sneak peeks for 3X01 (which I always say I'm not going to watch and which I always do) Squeeee! This is, obviously, nothing like the real thing. I hope you enjoyed, nonetheless. Please review if so xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Okay, just in case any of you think that Regina and Gold are being uncharacteristically restrained… **

**The rating is being upped to M from this chapter. Not sure it warrants an M at this stage, but as I have no desire to be booted off FanFiction I thought I'd better, just to be safe. **

**Coming up: Regina is – her usual self (yay!), Belle and Gold are reunited, in a manner of speaking (double yay!) and Belle lets Alex log into the library computer (Hmmm).**

* * *

Greg and Tamara waited for silence to fall in the corridor outside their room, before turning to one another as much as their bindings would permit. The room they were in had shelves and benches on three of its walls, and the two prisoners had been left in sitting positions on two benches adjacent to one another. The ropes that Regina had cast had been left on them even while locked in the small room, which had previously been used for storage and still smelt faintly of rum and cheese. The fragrance of meals past was doing nothing for their growling stomachs, but they had managed to maintain their silence despite their hunger. Tamara had whispered to Greg that neither David nor Mary Margaret would let them starve, and they had therefore held out stoically against hours of repetitive questioning, each growl of their stomachs like a triumphant blow against the enemy.

"I think, next time, you should pretend to faint," whispered Greg. Tamara grinned.

"They didn't even search us," she said softly, eyes glinting. "But just in case, I dropped my phone while they were taking us through the forest. There's no way they'll be able to find the camp."

"My phone's gone too," Greg said, in a satisfied manner. "That little thief had it in her hand, and then we were distracted by Henry disappearing. They're flying blind."

"So, we just need to get out of here," mused Tamara. "Do you remember how to get to the camp?"

Greg nodded. "I was keeping a close eye out," he said. "As soon as we get off this ship we can make it there in a day or so." He smiled at her. "We just need to convince them that we know nothing and that they'll have to let us go. It's either that or kill us, and somehow I don't think Prince Charming and his lovely wife are quite up to that."

Tamara frowned. "It's Regina and Gold I worry about," she said. "If either of them decides to take charge, we could be…" She cut off as the lock rattled and the door swung open.

"Well, hello there." Regina leant against the doorframe, dressed from head to toe in figure-hugging black. "I think it's about time we three had a nice, long chat." Red lips stretched wide as she smiled unpleasantly, and Greg could not help swallowing as his heart thumped painfully.

* * *

Gold drew the blade across his palm, wincing slightly as the skin sprang apart and blood flowed onto the Mirror's surface in fat, crimson drops which disappeared as quickly as they fell. Replacing the knife in his pocket he moved his uncut palm over the surface of the other hand, healing himself. He gestured to the air and the Mirror floated upwards and hung in front of him, suspended by magic.

"Show me Belle," he said quietly. The surface of the Mirror shimmered bright blue and silver, a picture forming from the ripples of light. The tense expression on his face relaxed into a tender smile as he saw her sleeping, a curl of hair dark against her pale cheek, one arm above the blankets of the bed, on her usual side. The sight of her in his bed made his smile widen; he had been afraid that she would have returned to her own apartment. He gazed at her for a moment, filling his head with her image, her full lips curving slightly upwards at the corners as she breathed deeply. He almost reached out to touch her before recalling that she was, at present, just a picture, a reflection. He guessed that the Mirror had used the full-length free-standing mirror in the bedroom to make the connection, and was thankful that it was night in Storybrooke. It meant that they could communicate.

"Belle?" he called, and she twitched and sighed in her sleep, making him smile again. He called her name once more.

"_Wha…?_" she murmured sleepily, her eyes opening. Upon seeing him, they widened in shock and she pushed herself up on her forearms, scrambling out of bed to stand before him. Her eyes looked puffy; she had clearly been crying before she fell asleep, and his heart ached for her, despite his being somewhat distracted by her appearance. The white silk nightdress she wore clung and hinted at the curves beneath, and he wanted desperately to reach through the Mirror and hold her.

"Rumple?" she said breathlessly. "How – am I dreaming? How can you be here?"

"We found a magic Mirror that lets one see whatever one wishes, for a brief time," he explained. "I don't know how long we have." He smiled, drinking her in. "I just had to see you."

She sighed happily, stretching a little, and his eyes moved over her hungrily.

"I was dreaming about you," she said sleepily. He grinned.

"I hope it was pleasant."

She gave a low, throaty chuckle that made his mouth go dry. "It was more than pleasant," she said teasingly. "I just want you to come home and finish what you started."

He laughed too, desperate to touch her, to taste her. "You have no idea how much I want that." He tried to keep the sadness from his face, and hoped that he had managed it. Her smile had dipped a fraction. She looked him over.

"You're in leathers again," she giggled, raising an eyebrow. "Was that just for me?"

"I do requests, milady," he smirked, spreading his arms, and she pursed her lips.

"Then I request that you bring home that outfit," she said with a grin. "Just be aware that you won't be leaving the house in it." She blushed as she said it, and he laughed softly.

"Where are you?" she asked curiously, moving closer to the mirror.

"Neverland. We're trying to find Henry, but it's slow work. There are certain obstacles we need to consider." He decided not to mention their problems with the prisoners, but eyed her, concerned. "How did it go with you, with the spell?"

"We did it!" said Belle proudly. "All according to your instructions, misleading as they were." She frowned at him fondly, and he smiled again. "I think the town's safe. No-one's tried to kill us, anyway." She looked excited, eyes gleaming, her skin almost luminous in the pale blue moonlight shining through the window. _So beautiful._

"Did it hurt?" he asked gently, and a myriad of expressions flickered over her face.

"It hurt," she admitted. "It hurt so much I don't know how you stand it."

"It hurt you because your soul is pure," he said softly. "It doesn't hurt me, Belle."

She gave him a tender look, and opened her mouth. He cut her off before she could tell him anything about _his_ soul, that it wasn't all darkness, that there was light and goodness in him, or something else he didn't believe.

"How is the rest of the town holding up?" he asked.

Belle shook her head, dark curls bouncing. "Never mind that, if we don't have long," she said, smiling. "How are _you_?" She took another step forward, close enough to touch, if they had truly been in the same room.

"Well, I haven't killed Hook yet, so that's progress," he said dryly, and Belle giggled, before a sober expression returned to her face.

"I miss you," she said quietly.

"And I you," he said, his voice soft. She sighed, and they reached out, each brushing the cheek of the other in the image before them with a finger.

"We can do that for real once you've rescued Henry," she said confidently. He sighed.

"I don't know how to get back," he said gently. "I may never get back, Belle." He tried to keep the bleakness from his voice, but she heard it anyway.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "And don't give me any more of that 'the boy is my undoing' crap. Tell me what you mean. Have you foreseen something?"

He grimaced. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I told you about the prophecy, and I just feel…" He cut off with a sigh. "Belle, I'd rather not discuss this now. I just wanted to see you."

She frowned, not willing to drop the subject, and he sighed again. "Time moves differently here, but I'll try to get in touch again tomorrow," he said gently, and her expression softened.

"I wish you could touch me now," she whispered, and he smiled widely.

"As do I, you look absolutely delicious!"

She giggled again, the laughter dying almost as quickly as it had come. "Just find him, Rumple," she begged, eyes pleading. "Find him and come home to me!"

"As soon as I can," he said, hoping the sadness would not show in his face. She seemed to sense his mood, and reached for him again. They pressed their foreheads against the glass, imagining that there was nothing between them.

"I love you," she whispered, and he swallowed hard, his eyes burning.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said softly, and raised his head just as her picture faded into waves of blue and silver light once more. He hung his head, breathing deeply, calming himself, before taking the Mirror and setting it once more upon the floor.

"Well, well, how touching!" drawled a voice from behind him. Gold set his jaw, turning slowly to see Hook lounging against the doorframe.

"Goodnight kisses for your dear Belle?" asked the pirate, mockingly. "You know, I have to hand it to you, she looks a pleasant armful, especially in that – bedroom attire. Perhaps I'll put in a late night call, too. Maybe she'll put on a show, if I ask nicely." He smirked, waggling his eyebrows provocatively. Swallowing his anger, Gold turned on his heel to walk away, but Hook pursued him.

"So, man to man," he said confidentially. "Have you actually – done the deed, the two of you?" He was grinning, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"A gentleman never speaks of these things," said Gold dryly. "But then, I suppose you wouldn't know about that." He turned back to face the pirate, holding up a curious finger. "Or perhaps you simply have a death wish."

"You won't kill me," scoffed Hook. "You already told me I get to live, and from what I hear you always keep your word."

"I did say you could live," acknowledged Gold, with a shrug. "I just didn't specify for how long, or how many of your limbs you'd get to keep." His smile was more of a grimace, but Hook seemed undeterred. He leant forward, eyebrows twitching tauntingly. Gold contemplated beating the pirate to a bloody pulp with his cane, and idly wondered whether healing him afterwards would allow the Charmings to forgive his brutality.

"Wonder how long she'll wait for you before she decides she needs some company?" Hook mused, stroking his chin. "Young girl like that. Pretty." His hands made cupping motions. "Ripe," he added lasciviously, teeth gleaming. "Only a matter of time, I expect."

"Here's an idea," said Gold, his voice deceptively soft, his smile wide. "How about I don't hear any opinion from you on Belle ever again?" He raised his cane, Hook eyeing it warily. "Or I'll take your tongue, along with that shrivelled thread between your legs that you think makes you a man, and shove the whole lot up your - "

"Problem, gentlemen?" interrupted David, striding into the room with fists on hips.

"Not as far as I'm concerned," said Gold quietly. "It would be easy as…" He smiled, gesturing expansively. "Well, you really wouldn't want to find out how easy it is."

Hook glared at him, then turned on his heel and strode off, slamming the door of his cabin behind him. David sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Is this how it's going to be with you two from now on?" he asked wearily. Gold shrugged.

"It's a step forward from trying to kill each other, isn't it?" he said.

David sighed again, running a hand over his head and making the light gleam in gold flecks on his short hair. "Look, we need to work together to get Henry out of here," he said sternly. "I don't care what's between the two of you. I don't care that he knocked me out. All I care about is getting my grandson back. And for that, I need his help. So, can we set the passive-aggressive crap to one side until then?"

Gold smiled, the warmth not reaching his eyes. "Whatever you say," he offered.

David nodded curtly and turned to go back up on deck. Gold scowled after him and heard Emma chuckle softly from outside the room.

"Look, I know Hook's an ass, but try not to let him get under your skin," she said, amused, leaning against the doorframe. "I find a knee to the crotch works wonders."

"You are, of course, a little more agile than myself, dearie," he said waspishly, and she grinned.

"I'm going to bed," she announced. "Night, Gold." She sauntered off down to the cabin she had been assigned with Regina, and he stood there brooding for a minute or so before the sound of her footsteps made him turn.

"Have you seen Regina?" asked Emma, and he shook his head.

"She was the first to leave, wasn't she?" he asked, and she frowned, a suspicious light in her eyes, her mouth set in a thin line.

"Stay here," she snapped, and he lifted his eyebrows in amusement as she looked through the other rooms, then sprinted up the stairs to the main deck. He smirked at her as she returned, running fingers through her blonde hair distractedly, David following in her wake.

"Well?"

"She's nowhere to be seen," said Emma bluntly. She raised her eyes to his, her face hard. "That means she's with the prisoners."

Gold cursed softly under his breath as she shoved past him and strode towards the stairs to the lower deck.

* * *

Regina walked into the musty storeroom as though it were her throne room, hips swinging, grin widening. The smiles had fallen from the faces of the prisoners, and they exchanged worried looks.

"Now," she said pleasantly, lifting a hand. Purple fire danced around her clenched fist. "I understand that you're not being particularly cooperative. I'm sure you want to change that, don't you?"

Tamara jerked in her bonds as she attempted to kick out at Regina, and the other woman laughed aloud and gestured towards her, making Tamara fly back against the wall and bang her head painfully against the wooden slats.

"I don't think so, my dear," drawled Regina, and turned her dark eyes on Greg. "Now, _Owen_, or whatever you're calling yourself these days. Let's see how _people like you_ deal with magic when you _don't_ have me strapped down and helpless." She raised her hand, unwinding the ropes securing Greg to the wooden bench and levitating him in front of her. Their eyes met, Greg's staring into hers, dark with hatred and disgust. She curled her lip.

"This is for Henry," she said coldly, and used the magic to fling him to the floor. Greg grunted in pain as the breath was knocked from his lungs, and cried out as Regina began to rain blows all over his body with the power of her magic.

"Stop it!" yelled Tamara, her eyes bulging. "Help! Anyone!"

Regina flicked a hand at her contemptuously, and Tamara was instantly struck dumb, her mouth working around an invisible gag. Greg was writhing on the floor in his bonds, his face already bruised, blood trickling from his mouth. He felt a crack and a terrible pain to his side, and dimly thought that she had broken one of his ribs. Darkness was crowding in on his vision and threatening to take him, when he saw the door open behind Regina.

* * *

Emma gasped as she witnessed the scene in front of them; Greg was bloodied and semi-conscious as he was subjected to a rain of blows from Regina, and Tamara was staring at them pop-eyed with an expression of outrage. Gold grimaced and waved his hands, binding Regina's arms to her sides and cutting off her magic. She shouted in rage and struggled, turning to face them with fury in her eyes as Emma grabbed one arm and David took the other, pulling her into the corridor and tossing the key to Gold, who shut the storeroom door behind him as they dragged Regina towards the stairs.

"I have to make them talk!" she yelled, struggling. "You know they won't respond to anything else, Gold! You know I'm right!"

"Get her out of here!" snapped Gold, and David and Emma hauled Regina with them up to the main quarters. Gold watched them go, then smiled to himself as he turned back to the door.

* * *

Belle sat up with a start, the last remnants of sleep fleeing from her as she recalled her conversation with Rumple the previous night. She smiled. He was alive, and as long as he was alive, she knew she could get him back. That wouldn't stop her worrying about him, though; she knew desperation when she saw it. She knew what a forlorn hope was; the gods knew she had seen enough of it in the Ogre Wars. Men with nothing to lose threw themselves into battle with no thought for their own safety. Such men took potions from hedge-witches and became berserkers, impossible to stop short of decapitation or disembowelment. Or being torn limb from limb. She was very afraid that he had taken it into his head that this was a suicide mission and that he had nothing to lose.

She showered leisurely and changed, before heading over to Ruby's. Despite the early hour the taller woman was already sweeping the front steps of the diner, clad in leather pants and a tight black T-shirt. She beamed at Belle.

"Iced tea, on the house?" she asked, and Belle smiled tiredly, following her inside.

"I spoke to Rumple," she said quietly, as Ruby busied herself with the drink. Ruby almost spilled the tea, glancing hurriedly around the empty diner as she leant on the bar.

"_What?" _she whispered. Belle stirred her tea with a straw.

"Last night," she explained, and launched into the story about the Mirror. Ruby listened, open-mouthed.

"So, I'm scared that he's planning something stupid," finished Belle. "That he doesn't think he's going to make it." She sighed, drawing pictures in the condensation that had run down her cold glass and spread in a tiny wet pool across the bar. Ruby clutched her hand, fingers wrapping around Belle's and squeezing comfortingly.

"What can we do?" she asked, and Belle frowned, thinking.

"I need to find a way to get to him," she said, decidedly. "He can't ignore my feelings if I'm standing in front of him."

"Belle…" began Ruby, her expression doubtful, and Belle nodded impatiently.

"I know, I know, he was looking for centuries and couldn't do it without a curse," she said shortly. "But there's magic here now. Perhaps that makes all the difference. I'll hit the books." She took a long slurp of her iced tea. "What's the situation with our new guest?"

Ruby pulled a face. "Not up yet," she said quietly. "What the hell are we going to do with him? If the phones were out yesterday, my guess is they're still out. The spell would have made it impossible for anyone from the outside to find us, including by phone."

Belle shrugged. "Maybe we can drug him and throw him back over the line somewhere," she suggested, not entirely flippantly. Ruby gave her a flat look.

"We'll need to do something soon," she said darkly. "I dread to think what Spencer's suggestion might be."

Belle frowned. That was certainly something to cause concern. The man didn't deserve to die for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

* * *

Alex left Granny's bed and breakfast and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his orange vest against the increasingly cold wind. The telephones were still not working, and Ruby had suggested that perhaps he try email. He had obtained directions to the library, but found upon reaching the building, which he noticed was beneath a clock tower, that the doors were locked shut. He pulled on the door handle ineffectually, frowning.

"Librarian not there?" Alex jumped and turned at the sound of a man's voice behind him. He noticed a large, bearded man who he had seen the previous day in Granny's diner. The man wore a strange red and gold tunic over baggy trousers tucked into heavy boots, huge arms folded across his chest. He was frowning at Alex a little suspiciously, but that seemed to be the default expression for everyone in this town.

"I need to use the computers," explained Alex. "Internet. To get a ride home. The phones are still down."

The big man nodded stiffly. "Try Mr Gold's pawn shop," he offered. "If she's not here, she'll be there."

"Thank you." Alex looked down the street where the man pointed, and walked swiftly away, feeling eyes in the back of his head.

* * *

Belle sighed as she stacked the book she had been leafing through to the side and took up another. The laptop screen in front of her already contained around thirty pages of spells, their uses, and where they could be found in Gold's extensive collection. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, and opened the book in her hands, flicking to the contents page. She had spent the past day beginning to catalogue the collection of spellbooks, and although she had found numerous incantations to provide healing, track animals, clean dirty clothing, and calm a distressed child, she had yet to find any that taught her how to jump to another realm. Clearly this was why it had taken Rumple three centuries, she thought sourly. She was satisfied with the cataloguing, though. He might know his books back to front and seemed not to require them for his own magic in any event, but if the town was to survive without him for a while she would need to do her best to provide a replacement. She had set up a database on her laptop with a search facility keyed to various words in the different spells, so that she could pull up different spells by tapping in the relevant terms. All in all, she was quite pleased with herself. She had thought computers something made of magic themselves when she had first got her memories back and been introduced to Storybrooke, but just as with everything, there were books (or rather, online blogs and prompts) that she could read to find her way around them. She vaguely heard the shop doorbell ringing, but paid it no mind. Head buried in her research, she hurriedly tapped out a reference to a spell to knit broken bones together, and flipped the page of her book.

"Erm…" said Alex, awkwardly. Belle jumped and slammed the lid of the laptop shut, clutching at her chest. "I'm sorry," he added hastily. "I didn't mean to startle you. I mean – the bell rang, and I assumed…"

"It's okay," she said, more calmly than she felt. She smiled up at him. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you the librarian?" he asked and she nodded with a grin.

"I am. I'm looking after Mr Gold's shop while he's away, and I'd forgotten the time." She stood, stretching. "How can I help you?"

"I need to get internet access," he explained, taking off his glasses to polish a light fog from them. "Phones are still down, and Ruby suggested…"

"Of course," she agreed, grabbing her purse. "Let me lock up."

He stepped back into the shop, and ran his eyes over the various treasures on the shop's shelves as he was waiting for her to gather her things.

"The man's a real hoarder, huh?" he remarked, and Belle smiled fondly.

"He likes to collect interesting and beautiful things," she confirmed, and he nodded, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Like you?"

She frowned, putting her hands on her hips, and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offence. I heard you were together, that's all."

"We are," she said stiffly, feeling faintly aggrieved at the townsfolk gossiping about her private life in front of a stranger. "Follow me. I'll get you logged on."

She locked the shop behind them and walked at a pace swift enough to make him trot to keep up. The library, when they entered, was cool and pleasant, and smelt of books and wood polish. Belle led him to a small alcove at the back with a lone computer and desk. She turned it on and used her password to log in.

"Facilities are a bit sparse at the moment," she said apologetically. "We were supposed to open months ago but I – had an accident, so technically you're the first visitor. I had this grand opening planned, but – well, never mind." She sighed briefly. He was watching her curiously, and she seemed to shake off her despondent mood. "Would you like to borrow any books while you're here?" she asked. "Because if so we'll need to issue you with a card and get you on the system."

"I don't – I'll ask you if I do," he said, and she nodded.

"If you need anything I'll be out front," she said, with a brief smile, and left him to it. Alex looked at the waiting internet search engine, and grinned to himself.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" snapped Emma, rounding on Regina. Emma's eyes were flashing blue-grey, the colour of approaching storm clouds, and the older woman was breathing heavily, her expression mutinous. Her arms were now free of the spell Gold had cast, and she planted fists on her hips, her jaw lifted defiantly. Emma took a deep breath. "Why, Regina? Why after _everything_? Every time I think you've turned a corner you do something like _this_!"

"Like what?" Regina's voice was curt and unfeeling, her lip curled in a sneer. "I did what I had to do to find my son – _our_ son, if you insist. Your – _parents_ – couldn't drag information out of a well-paid informant!"

Emma shook with anger. "This isn't what we decided. You were there. You…"

"What _you_ decided," corrected Regina, her eyes snapping. "I don't recall being asked for my agreement or my opinion. And what you decided wielded _nothing_. We're exactly where we were when we brought them aboard."

Emma opened her mouth angrily, then bit back the words that were dancing on the tip of her tongue. If she was completely honest with herself, a small part of her agreed with Regina. An even smaller, darker part of her wanted to beat the crap out of Tamara without even questioning her, and she was a little disgusted with herself. "Fine," she said acidly. "Can I trust you to stay away from them, or do I need to get Gold to restrain you?"

Regina's eyes bulged slightly in outrage. "Oh, so suddenly, _he's_ the white knight in all of this?" She was breathing heavily, eyes flashing with indignation.

"He hasn't been torturing the prisoners the minute my back's turned," snapped Emma. "And he's done what we asked of him without question, so, yeah Regina, at this point in time, he's more trustworthy than you!" She span on her heel and strode towards the doorway.

"I wasn't always like this." The break in her voice made Emma stop and turn. Regina was staring at her hands, running her thumb over the ring finger of her left hand repeatedly. Her breath was coming rapidly, but deeply, as though she was trying desperately to calm herself. "I was – kind, good. Even after losing my true love, Daniel – even after he was killed." She sighed, looking at the floor, before raising pain-filled eyes to Emma's. "You want to know how I became like I am? Gold." Her voice was flat and emotionless. "He found me. He changed me. He manipulated me into being the person I am. He brought magic to me and darkened my soul, for his own purposes. Without that, I might have been happy. We all might have been."

Emma took a deep breath. "I know some of the things he's done," she said, her voice a little calmer. Regina opened her mouth furiously, and Emma lifted her hands, palms outward. "Not all of it, obviously, and I'm guessing I don't want to. But Neal told me some, and Henry told me more." She gave Regina a level look. "He's the Dark One. I get it. But even if he taught you magic, even if he taught you dark spells, the choice was _yours_ to cast them. You had options, Regina, every step of the way, and you chose wrong."

Regina dashed her hand against her eyes, swallowing hard as she briefly raised her gaze to the ceiling, as though hoping to find support there. "Why do you think he's so interested in you?" she demanded. "If you think he wants to train you out of concern for your – abilities – you're crazy. I've seen that look in his eyes. I saw it when he looked at me. He sees a tool he can use, someone he can manipulate into doing what he wants." She leaned closer to Emma, her words slow and insistent. "He _never _gives _anything_ away _without a price_." She straightened up, tossing her head back. "Keep that in mind the next time he offers to teach you something, Miss Swan, and ask yourself, what's in it for him?"

* * *

Gold waited until he heard a door slam on the upper deck, and he was confident of not being disturbed for a while. Deciding that a little more authority was needed at this stage of the proceedings, he waved his hand and replaced his brown leathers with black leather pants that were so tight it looked as though he had been poured into them, with long boots, a tight-fitted black leather waistcoat and a shirt in deep red silk the shade of fresh blood, open at the neck. He thought the colour appropriate. He wore a black fitted tailcoat over the top with a high collar, which looked as though it was made from dragon-skin. He was surprised at how comfortable the familiar clothes made him, the feeling of power that came from being impeccably attired. It had been a form of power with which he had been well acquainted even while under the curse. Straightening the cuffs of his shirt, and smirking to himself, he pulled open the door of the storeroom, and walked slowly inside.

* * *

**A/N: Uh-oh! It's not looking good for the prisoners...**

**Coming up: Gold explains a few things to Greg and Tamara, Lily opens up to Mary Margaret, and Belle has a nightmare.**

**Hope you enjoyed, show me some love if so x**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Oh, you guys! I'm completely blown away by your kind reviews and PMs on this fic. Glad you're having as much fun reading it as I am writing it.**

**Just to forewarn you, there'll be some violence in this chapter.**

* * *

Alex said goodbye to Belle and closed the library door behind him as he left to return to his room at Granny's. He was smiling to himself as he walked, much happier now that he had made contact with the Home Office. They had informed him that he had ben wired enough money to stay in Storybrooke for the foreseeable future and that his mission was intelligence-gathering. They also confirmed that they had been unable to find the town; it had disappeared from maps, did not show up on any GPS, and even entering the exact coordinates wouldn't take agents to where the town was. The agents were perplexed. Alex was impressed at the strength of the magic that had created such a spell, and was determined to find out who had cast it, if only so he could learn more about what they did. Brief conversations with the townsfolk and careful eavesdropping were all he had managed so far; they seemed suspicious of him. He had gleaned that the mayor Regina Mills and the pawnbroker Mr Gold had both left the town, along with David Nolan, who worked at the animal shelter, Mary Margaret Blanchard, a teacher, a man named Hook whom no-one seemed to like, and a woman named Emma Swan who had been the sheriff. He had no idea what connected these people other than that some of them were related. His contact at the Home Office acknowledged the information he sent, but he had the feeling that he wasn't telling them anything they didn't already know. As the junior researcher and tech support to his team, he was not privy to the majority of intelligence that changed hands amongst his superiors. He had seen the footage of magic that Mendell had sent, and had been allowed to read some of the files, but his knowledge was limited. Perhaps, if he proved himself in this mission, he would be trusted with more information. It was knowledge that he craved above all. A conspiracy theorist and believer in the darker side of humanity, he had obtained his current post by hacking into government sites and reading restricted files. His prying had almost gone undetected until he had come across vague references to "the Home Office", which had piqued his interest, and encouraged him to dig deeper, finding more intriguing material. By that point he was being watched by both the US government and the Home Office itself, but rather than have him arrested, they found a use for him, and made a deal with the US not to press charges against him for espionage. Alex didn't personally believe that wanting to find out the truth amounted to spying, but he was grateful for the reprieve, and interested in the work he had been doing since. At the beginning of his induction, magic, to his mind, had been a little far-fetched, but then he read the literature he was sent by his new, faceless masters, then the evidence started coming in from Storybrooke, and he had to admit that all things were indeed possible. He had now worked remotely for the Home Office for two years; this trip to Storybrooke was the first time he had met any of the co-workers with whom he had corresponded by email. His colleagues seemed to have a hatred for magic that he didn't share; he was amazed by it, excited by it, and afraid of it, but he didn't hate it. He yearned to discover more, to see a spell cast, to feel magic in the air around him, and had the sense not to reveal his curiosity to those he worked with. The internet had opened up so many channels of knowledge, so much could be transferred at the click of a mouse. Magic was surely a subject for study just as any other, but he needed to be accepted by the townsfolk before he would be permitted access to anything. He recalled the last line in the email he had received: _stay where you are. Gain their trust. Further instructions will follow_. He pulled open the door to the diner and Ruby smiled at him from behind the bar. He smiled back. The waitress had been pleasant towards him so far. Perhaps she was his way in.

"Still here huh?" she said cheerfully, and he shrugged shyly as he eased onto a bar stool.

"My friends made it home okay," he said truthfully. "But they thought I'd gone on ahead and didn't realise I was still here until I got in touch." He sighed. "Looks like I won't be getting a ride home any time soon."

Ruby looked sympathetic, placing a beer before him and waving away his offer of payment. "How are you going to get back?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"I still have a few weeks before I have to go back to work," he said. "I thought I'd stay here and see some of small-town America." He smiled at her, noting that her expression faltered a little at his words. He frowned slightly. "Ruby, what's the deal here? Everyone looks at me as though I'm about to start a killing spree, or something."

She gave a hollow laugh, wiping at the already spotless bar with a towel.

"We don't get many strangers here, as you may have guessed," she said, not looking at him. "But the last two that came – they caused a lot of trouble. The violent kind."

"Oh." He drank his beer. "Who were they?"

Ruby pulled a face. "Doesn't matter, they're gone now." She seemed to regret having mentioned it, and he sought to hold her interest.

"Ruby – would you consider – I mean, if you don't want to, I'd understand, you probably have a boyfriend…" She looked at him sharply, and he blushed, seeming to stumble over his words even more "…or not, I mean, maybe you're a lesbian, not that there's anything wrong with that, I mean, of _course_ there isn't anything wrong with that, but…"

"Is this you asking me out?" interrupted Ruby dryly, putting him out of his misery. At her words, Alex's mouth snapped shut, for which he offered thanks to whatever deity governed acute embarrassment.

"Uh – yeah," he muttered awkwardly. Her face broke into a beautiful smile, and she nodded.

"I get off around eleven," she said. "Come back then, I'll take you to the Rabbit Hole." She walked away, swinging her hips invitingly, and he grinned to himself as he downed his beer. Phase one accomplished. He hoped that his mission would end more successfully than Agent Mendell's.

* * *

Gold looked down on the whimpering man, his face expressionless, then levitated him back onto the bench next to Tamara's. Greg lay on his back, blood running from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth. His lips were cracked, his eyes already beginning to swell shut. Gold eased himself down on the bench opposite Tamara and regarded the two prisoners with a slight smile on his face. Tamara sat still in her bonds across from him, watching him with hate in her eyes. Oh yes, she would suffer. But first things first.

"I don't know why you two are so uptight about the use of magic," he said, in a conversational tone. "It can achieve the most marvellous things. For example…" He ran his hand over Greg, sending healing magic coursing through him. It would hurt terribly, done this fast, but so much the better. The man groaned as his split lip mended, his bruises disappeared and his bones knitted together. Dried blood flaked and fell from his face and he collapsed back on the bench with a broken gasp. Tears of relief leaked from his eyes. Gold allowed himself a brief smile, and reached to the side, pouring water from a full jug into one of the two tankards placed beside it.

"Drink this," he said gently, holding it to Greg's lips. Greg drank thirstily before lying back with a sigh and fixing him with a glare.

"If this is your version of 'good cop, bad cop', I'm not playing," he said scornfully. Gold's eyes widened, and then he suddenly laughed, a deep laugh of true amusement.

"Oh, you think _Regina's_ the bad cop?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not." Greg watched as the man folded his hands over the top of his cane and fixed him with a stare. His eyes were dark, almost black in the light of the cabin, and entirely pitiless. Greg had seen eyes like those before; the eyes of a killer. He was suddenly very afraid. He tried desperately to remember what he knew about Gold, about Rumplestiltskin. He liked to make deals, to bargain, and he kept his word. The only things that Greg thought he might be interested in dealing for, however, could not be revealed without breaking the oath he had taken and resulting in his expulsion from the Home Office. Or worse.

"Do you know who I am?" asked Gold quietly, and the younger man nodded slowly. Gold bared his teeth in a grin. "Excellent," he whispered. "Then I'm sure I don't need to tell you the lengths I'll go to in order to get what I want."

Greg swallowed hard, and Tamara shifted on the bench, shaking her head at him.

"Say nothing, Greg," she warned, and Gold _tsked _in irritation.

"I'll get to you soon enough, dearie," he said mildly. "Don't bring yourself into the game any earlier than necessary."

"You think this is a _game_?" she spat, and he chuckled.

"Well, I can assure you it'll be fun for me," he said, amused. "It's been a while since I tortured someone, but – well – it's not like you forget how." He smiled as he said it, a thin, dark smile. Greg's eyes widened, and he looked desperately between Tamara and Gold.

"He's bluffing," said Tamara assuredly. "Those others, Emma and Mary Margaret, they wouldn't let him."

"You're assuming I feel the need to seek permission." Gold leant back, unruffled. "The idealism of our dear Prince and his family didn't exactly hold Regina back, now did it?"

"I won't tell you anything!" spat Greg, his lower jaw jutting forwards pugnaciously. "I'm more than willing to die for my cause!"

"Oh, you'll die, dearie, that's the most unfortunate and inevitable consequence of living," nodded Gold, as though he was truly looking forward to that fateful day. He sat back a little, watching Greg carefully, the light of amusement and mischief playing around his eyes. "The _real_ question is: how do you and I pass the time between now, and then?" He smiled briefly, gold tooth glinting, and reached inside his jacket. There was a bloom of purple fire, and he withdrew a tiny round box in dark, unadorned wood, placing it on the bench beside him. Greg looked at it warily from the corner of his eye. Tamara sat forward slightly, trying to see more clearly.

Gold tapped the lid of the box with a long finger. "You can either tell me what I want to know," he said softly, "or I open the box." His smile was a fleeting thing, full of menace, and his eyes gleamed darkly. "Now, I realise that you bunch of misfits must have undergone some sort of training, techniques to withstand interrogation and torture _et cetera_, but, trust me." He shook his head slowly, resolutely. "You do _not_ want me to open the box."

"Remember what they taught us, Greg," warned Tamara, and Greg smiled.

"Oh, it's one of_ those_ tricks!" he laughed softly. "My mind can always come up with something far worse than you can threaten, am I right?" His laugh was short, humourless, and his mouth curled into a sneer. "Go screw yourself, Gold."

"A physical impossibility, but never mind that," sniffed Gold. "You're saying this is a mind game? I can assure you, this box is far from empty." He stood slowly, folding his fingers around the handle of his cane. "Shall we begin?"

"Kiss my ass!"

Gold shook his head, disappointed. "The sooner we dispense with all this nonsense, the sooner I can get home and kiss one far prettier." He waved his hand theatrically and the air seemed to thicken around them. Greg's breathing quickened nervously.

"I've just cast a spell on this room," explained Gold pleasantly. "Any noise we make in here will not be heard by anyone out there." He smiled as the two others exchanged panicked looks. "Where's Henry?"

"Screw you!" Greg's voice shook only a little, and Gold sighed and shook his head.

"You know, you can flirt with me all you like, Mr Mendell, but I'm afraid you're really not my type," he drawled. "Where's Henry?" His voice was soft, conversational, but Greg simply glared at him wordlessly.

"You're wasting your time!" said Tamara coldly, her dark eyes scouring him. _His shirt is the colour of blood,_ came the unexpected thought, her stomach clenching with a sharp, fleeting thrill of terror. _He's made of blood, fresh-spilled blood and darkness._ She squared her jaw, trying and failing to calm her hammering heart. "We know where our loyalties lie, and you won't _make_ us do anything. You may as well give up and let us go. We'll never talk. You'll either have to let us starve to death, or kill us yourselves." She smirked at him. "Good luck getting _Snow White _to agree to the murder of prisoners." She sat back, her manner portraying that she was sure of herself once more, of her own strength, confident in her feeling of superiority. But her heart still banged against her chest like a tiny, frightened bird desperate to flee its cage.

Gold met her eyes, and his mouth twitched. He took a deep breath, shaking his head, and sighed slowly, regretfully. "You're forcing me to open the box," he said sadly. "I want you to know that I _really _hoped this could be avoided." He prised open the lid of the tiny box, withdrawing a small, kidney-shaped stone, its colour the deep orange of a glowing ember. He held it up to the light, flicking his eyes towards the prisoners.

"This is a firestone," he said calmly. "Do you know what that is?"

Greg and Tamara shook their heads in unison, and Gold smiled darkly.

"Back in the Enchanted Forest, they were used by the clerics of the Eastern Steppes," he said idly, turning the firestone left and right between his thumb and forefinger. "The clerics used them to torture those that – failed to measure up to their accepted form of religious zeal." He said the words through gritted teeth, anger in his voice. "Or indeed those who refused to give up the names of those the clerics sought. They would have _loved_ to get their hands on me, of course." He grinned suddenly, eyes black in the light of the lantern. The flickering shadows gave his features a demonic cast, not lost on the prisoners. Greg let out a faint whimper.

"It's just a stone," said Tamara coldly. "I don't see what we're supposed to be scared of. If picking a pebble off the beach and terrifying us with it was your grand plan, you need to come up with some new material."

Gold chuckled. "Of course," he said softly. "I failed to explain. The firestone is currently in its dormant state. It's woken by magic." He took a step towards the prisoners, and Greg shrank away from him involuntarily. Tamara squared her jaw, and Gold smiled. "The clerics were the most sadistic, most wicked people I have ever had the misfortune to meet. They called the people they tortured heretics, the spawn of demons. In their rationale, you can lie to a heretic, or torture a demon, and you're doing the work of the _gods_, even when the so-called heretic is, let's say, a small child or a pregnant woman. I thought it fitting, in the current circumstances." He loomed over them, the light casting long shadows down his body and making his features sharper, harder. He stood a little straighter, his feet planted firmly, and spoke as though he were reciting from a text, his voice calm, easy. "The firestone enters its host through the nose or ears and spreads through the veins like an all-consuming blaze. Apparently it's as though your entire body is filled with flames you can't put out. Excruciating, I'm told. The reports I've read say that it was enough to send some mad before they could be made to talk. I'll have to be careful." He smiled briefly, then put his head to the side, eyeing Greg. "Part of the spell I used to heal you will also keep you awake. Wouldn't want you to faint and miss the fun." His smile widened, teeth gleaming. "Where's Henry?"

Greg's breathing had quickened further. He was almost panting with fear, his eyes wide and staring. He shook his head firmly, and Gold sighed.

"Very well." He put the stone to his lips and blew gently on it, a light purple mist forming briefly over it. Tamara jerked in her bonds as she saw the stone pulse and come alive, writhing in the centre of Gold's palm like a caterpillar. Greg tried to move, tugging against the ropes binding him, and Gold gently placed the firestone on his chest. Greg whimpered and thrashed as the thing immediately rose up, the tip of it waving back and forth as though sensing its destination. It then dropped down and inched its way up his neck and over his face, pushing into his right nostril and disappearing from sight. Greg let out a panicked, gargling cry.

"Greg!" shouted Tamara urgently. Gold simply stood, watching. At first nothing happened; Greg shook his head at Tamara and turned a triumphant smile on Gold. Gold returned the smile, settling his cane, feet planted to each side, the warm lamplight gleaming on his jacket and picking out silver threads in his hair. Greg suddenly jerked, arching his back, muscles stretched tight as a long howl of agony burst from him.

"_Greg!_" yelled Tamara, her eyes wide with horror. Veins stood out on his forehead, a faint sheen of sweat coating his skin. His eyes were wide and unseeing. He roared his pain until he ran out of breath, then gulped air and _shrieked_.

"_Stop it!"_ Tamara spat, turning desperate eyes on Gold. He raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have something to offer me?" he asked mildly. "I'm always willing to make a deal, if the price is agreeable. My price is Henry's whereabouts. Such a simple thing."

"You're _killing _him!" There were tears in her eyes.

Gold shook his head with a faint smile. "I've killed a lot of people, dearie," he said softly. "Trust me, he won't die unless I wish it." He shifted his feet, folding his hands over his cane. "Where's Henry?"

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, and Gold pinned her with his gaze, making her shrink back from him. _He has the eyes of a dragon,_ her mind gibbered fearfully. _The eyes of a demon_. She swallowed hard, then shook her head determinedly, raising her chin with a look of utter disdain. She shook slightly as Greg let forth another scream. _Why Greg? Why not me?_ she thought. _ I killed_ _his _son._ What the hell is he going to do to _me_?_ She shrank back instinctively, and Gold shrugged.

"Then I'll leave you two to enjoy yourselves for a while." He stepped outside the bubble created by his spell, and Greg's screams cut off at once. Gold walked through the door and locked it behind him, pocketing the key. When he entered the captain's dining room, David was sitting at the table with a small glass of rum in his hands, the honey-brown liquid casting tiny flickers of reflected light on the dark wood. Mary Margaret had risen from her bed to sit with him, shadows beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. For some curious reason, Lily was also with them, eating an apple.

"How are our guests?" asked David. Gold shrugged, and helped himself to Hook's rum, taking a sip. The flavour was better than he'd expected, the drink tracing warm fire down his throat.

"Regina caused quite a bit of damage," he said. "I offered to heal Mendell, but he didn't appreciate it. You won't get anything from him tonight. I suggest you try tomorrow." All true.

"If they haven't talked by morning I can show you some ways to make them," offered Lily, gesturing with her apple core. "There's a nest of red ants on the shore you could tie them up next to and…"

"I don't think that'll be necessary, young lady, thank you," said Mary Margaret sternly. Lily shrugged.

Gold slid into a chair with a sigh, eyeing her curiously. "And just what is it that you're running from, little one?" he asked quietly. She gave him a shrewd look.

"My father was trying to force me to marry a man I despise," she said, in an offhand way. Mary Margaret gasped.

"But you can't be any more than fifteen!" she protested, and Lily frowned.

"I'm eighteen!" she said indignantly. Gold gave her a flat look, and she blushed a little. "Well, nearly. Seventeen then."

"You're small for seventeen," he remarked, and she scowled.

"You're not that big yourself," she snapped, and his face struggled for an expression somewhere between amusement and outrage. David hid his smile in his glass.

"So you ran away?" prompted Mary Margaret, and she nodded.

"It's – a terrible insult to my father, and to the man he chose for me," she explained, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "It was the chief from the neighbouring village, you see." Mary Margaret thought that she looked a little embarrassed. "He's almost as old as Father, not that_ that_ was a problem." David raised his eyebrows. "But he's cruel. I've seen him beat children and animals. His first wife died – some people whisper that he beat her to death, but I don't know if that's true. I didn't want to be beaten myself, so I left before the ceremony." She looked at Mary Margaret pleadingly, as though she thought the woman might carry her back to her father there and then.

"Why would your father marry you to a violent man?" asked David, feeling that he could never ask his own daughter to make such a sacrifice. Lily hung her head.

"Our villages had a blood feud for decades," she muttered. "We raided each other, killed each other – we made peace a few years ago, and the marriage was supposed to seal our new friendship. I just…the price was too high for me. I didn't want to cause any trouble for my father, but I just _couldn't_ marry him." She looked ashamed, fidgeting in her chair and looking at her small hands. "I wouldn't be a good wife to him. I could never love him."

"Of course you couldn't," said Mary Margaret soothingly, wondering with outrage who could make this child – for child she was – wed a violent man. "You're safe here, we won't give you away."

Lily nodded, clearly relieved. "I can't go near the villages of the People," she explained. "They all know me, it would only cause trouble for you. I just need your help to find my friend and get away from this place."

"So, who's your friend?" asked Mary Margaret gently, and Lily's face suddenly became evasive.

"Need to know basis," she muttered. "Right now, you don't need to know. I'll know when I get near her. My guess is, wherever your grandson is, she's there too. We just need those two downstairs to start singing like mermaids." She pushed up from her chair. "In the meantime…" She swallowed the remnants of her apple, squeezed Gold's shoulder as she passed, and grinned at the others as she sauntered back to her cabin.

"Tomorrow," said Mary Margaret confidently, taking her husband's hand.

"I'm going to bed," sighed David, pushing himself to his feet. "It's your watch, Gold. Wake Hook in four hours."

Gold smiled widely. "With pleasure."

* * *

Four hours later, with Hook patrolling the decks and everyone else asleep, Gold made his way back to the silent, locked room. Opening the door, he could see Greg still straining and screaming. Tamara had her eyes squeezed shut with tears pouring down her face. Gold stepped inside the barrier of his spell and was assaulted by Greg's hoarse shriek as they both turned their heads to face him. There was a stench of urine hanging thickly in the room; the man had soiled himself. Greg's eyes were almost starting from his head in desperate agony, sweat pouring from his skin and the muscles corded in his neck.

"_Pleeeeeaaase! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaase!_" One word amongst the harsh screams. The man would lose his voice at this rate. Gold smiled his blackest, most wicked smile. He'd forgotten how much fun this could be.

* * *

Ruby was just locking up when Alex returned to Granny's. He had managed to get himself some clean clothes, although Storybrooke didn't have a huge amount of choice in the realm of fashion. He figured that jeans and a shirt were innocuous enough to pass muster in any bar the town could boast, however. Ruby was looking very pretty in a red T-shirt and leather pants that looked as though they'd been sprayed on. She was type of girl he would normally have admired from afar and never, ever spoken to, so he guessed being a secret agent, however temporarily, had its pluses. It seemed to give him a strange sort of courage, almost as though he was a different person. This other Alex managed to smile at Ruby and not stumble over his own feet as he reached the diner. He managed to tell her she looked lovely without blushing too hard or looking at the floor. She grinned at him, told him he scrubbed up well, and linked her arm through his as she led him down the street. She smelt wonderful, of flowers and some sort of spice, and he hoped that she was planning on sticking this close to him on their date.

"The Rabbit Hole's a bit of a dive," she said brightly, as they rounded a corner and heard music emanating from a nearby building. "But it's _our_ dive. Plus it's the only place in town that stays open after midnight."

"Why, what happens at midnight in this place?" he asked. "Everyone turn into Cinderella's mice, or something?" He chuckled. She gave him an odd look then; a shadow falling across her face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had arrived, and she pulled open the door to the bar. The inside was humid and surprisingly full considering it was a Thursday. Alex noticed several people he recognised from Granny's, all of whom seemed to be staring at the two of them. Ruby squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"I'll have a Cosmo," she announced, and he hurried to the bar obediently while she grabbed a table.

"So, you know what _I_ do," said Ruby, when they were seated with their drinks. "Tell me about _you_."

Alex took a swallow of beer, and decided upon some version of the truth. "I'm in tech support," he began. "Nothing flashy, but it's what I'm good at."

"And what do you do for fun?" she asked, sipping her drink. He shrugged.

"I spend a lot of time on the computer, hence my sallow complexion and lack of physical prowess," he said self-deprecatingly, and she giggled. "I read, I write software, play games with other sad lonely men…"

"Enough with the sob-story!" chuckled Ruby. "We're on a date, you're not supposed to tell me what a loser you are."

"Understood." He grinned at her, running fingers through his dark hair. "What about you, Ruby?"

"I run," she said. "A lot. I work at Granny's, I hang out with my friends, the usual."

"Is Belle here tonight?" he asked, looking around. Ruby grimaced, taking a slurp of her drink.

"No," she said shortly. "She's – kind of going through something at the moment. Her – it still sounds weird to call him her boyfriend but I guess that's what he is – up and left town without much of a warning or – much of anything, really. My guess is she's huddled in a ball crying."

"Why is it weird to call him..."

Ruby waved a dismissive hand. "Only because he's like, a gazillion years older than her, that's all."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be much he could say to that. "Did they break up?"

"Nah," Ruby drained her glass. "True love, and all that, yadda yadda yadda."

"True love?" He looked sceptical. "Do you believe in that?"

She put her glass down on the table, and looked at him as though she pitied him.

"Yes," she said softly. "Don't you?"

He sensed he'd said the wrong thing, and shrugged uncomfortably, pushing at his glasses. "Guess I've never met anyone who's ever experienced it," he said, and Ruby smiled widely.

"Then you've come to the right place," she said.

* * *

Belle had, indeed, spent some time curled in a ball crying, but she eventually drifted off to sleep, only to be troubled by dark, disturbing dreams. They would often start out pleasantly enough, such as the dream in which she was kissing Rumple in the rose-gardens back at the Dark Castle, but then a shadow would come streaking out of the sky and snatch him away from her as she screamed. Another dream came, of Baelfire bleeding and dying on a beach, in a far-off land, alone. Rumple crying, then standing, a determined expression on his face, turning from her despite her begging him to stay, taken once again by the shadow. She awoke frightened, her heart thumping painfully, and slid from the bed, wrapping herself in his robe and padding downstairs to the study. She had hoped that Rumple would contact her as he had said, and ensured that she carried a mirror with her if there wasn't one in the room she was in. From time to time she snatched up the mirror, peering into its depths as though she could will him to make contact, but she saw nothing but her own, increasingly tired reflection. She filled some of the night with her ongoing cataloguing of spells, and part of her research had been into the portals created by the magic beans themselves. Information on these was limited, and she resolved to ask Anton when she next saw him. A part of her wondered whether she was wasting her time, given that there were no more beans. Anton was trying to coax the tiny stalks in Regina's study into life once more, but he was not confident that he would be able to, and even if he was successful, the possibility of another bean harvest was months away. Belle sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly, and flipped open another book. Her phone buzzed forlornly from the coffee table, and she picked it up curiously. Ruby. _Alex asked me for a date. We're at the Rabbit Hole. He looks good, in a nerdy kind of way. Do I kiss him or not? X._ Belle rolled her eyes, and tapped out a message. _Kiss his face off, just don't tell him who we really are. Remember the last visitors we got. X._

* * *

Gold stood over the screaming man, head tilted to the side, expression mildly curious. Greg's eyes were pleading, wild, desperate. Gold sighed, as though the effort of lifting his hand was too much to bear, gestured briefly, and Greg collapsed, weeping, shaking, chest hitching with wet, groaning sobs. Gold waited, his face impassive, until the man had cried himself to stillness. Tamara had hung her head, whether in exhaustion or relief was unclear. Gold reached out and brushed Greg's jaw with one finger; the man immediately shrank from his touch, a look of pure terror in his eyes. _Broken. Well and truly broken. _Gold smiled widely.

"Mr Mendell," he breathed silkily. "I trust you are inclined to be more – receptive – to our questions at this point." He noticed that Tamara had raised her head, dark, haunted eyes watching him bitterly. "Let me explain how this is going to work. I have cast a spell that makes the firestone – sleep, for want of a better word. I will bring Snow White, her lovely husband, and their dutiful daughter into this room, and you will answer each and every question they put to you truthfully, with as much information as you can. Fail in this, or inform them of what it is I've done, and all it will take is a flick of my wrist." He demonstrated with a slight motion of his hand, and Greg flinched with an involuntary moan. Gold fixed him with a stare. "Do we understand one another, dearie?"

Greg nodded, his eyes bright with terror. Tamara glared at Gold, her expression stony. He smiled at her.

"Oh, and just in case you're thinking about withholding anything, dearie, should you decide to do so, Mr Mendell will suffer for your insubordination." He raised his hand again, fingers wiggling. Greg let out a pitiful cry of fear, eyes starting from his head.

"Tamara, please…" he begged, his voice hoarse, barely audible. "Anything, please, honey. I can't – I can't…" He shook his head. "Tell them anything." He collapsed back, exhausted, muttering almost to himself. "_Anything. Everything." _Tamara spat very deliberately at Gold's feet, her eyes flashing with pain and fury.

"You bastard," she said vehemently. "You've destroyed the man I loved."

Gold's mouth twitched in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'd like to say we're even, but we're not even close," he whispered, and stalked from the room.

* * *

**A/N: ooh - some of that was hard to write. I hope I got the balance okay. Gold is severely pissed off, after all.**

**Next time - the gang goes ashore, Spencer throws his weight around, and we may find out what the title of this story was all about.**

**(That's the plan, anyway, I just need to write it!)**

**Hope you enjoyed, let me know if so xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well, what do you know – this had to be the fastest update I've written so far!**

**So, this fic was originally supposed to be about six chapters, and finished by the end of September. Then the Once muse turned up, just when I thought I could get back to doing some actual ****_work_****, like I'm supposed to. Stuff happened, characters appeared from nowhere, people started speaking out of turn and clamouring to be heard, and here I am with no end in sight just yet (although I think I know how I'm getting there). I told my Once muse to go sit in the corner and think about what she did, but that didn't work, so I'd better just get on with it.**

**Coming up: Henry wakes up, Tamara and Greg spill their secrets, Gold wants to let the prisoners go, and Spencer crashes the council meeting.**

**All sounds relatively innocent, right…?**

**Mwahahahahaaaa!**

* * *

Henry woke with a start, banging his head on the earth roof above him as he sat up. Rubbing the top of his head, he looked around himself. He had taken the opportunity the unknown girl had presented when she tried to steal from Greg and Tamara, and had run as far from the camp as he could. He could hear shouts behind him as he dodged around trees, but didn't look back, and within fifteen minutes he was out of earshot and headed towards the sea. He had been looking over his shoulder as he ran, and he therefore had not seen the tree root that his foot caught on, pitching him head first to the ground. His head must have struck something hard, because the next thing he remembered was waking up in a tiny hollow beneath a tree, pungent earth around him and the tendrils of roots stroking against him. He felt a lump the size of an egg at the front of his skull, and tried to remember what Regina had told him about concussions. He didn't think he was supposed to fall asleep with one, but it was a bit late for that. He had found a skin of water and fruit set on a piece of bark to the side of him, and he had eaten and drunk before settling back down. However he had gotten there, someone was clearly caring for him. The thought made him calmer, and he had lain back with a sigh. Now he was awake, with no idea how long he'd been there. His bladder was increasingly uncomfortable, so he slithered out from his little cave to relieve himself. Looking around, his head still thumping a little, he saw thick forest and a glimpse of ocean through the ranks of whispering trees. He decided to take a look around, dodging from tree to tree in case Greg and Tamara were around. He could hear the trickle of water nearby, and ducked back to the cave to pick up the empty waterskin.

"So, you're awake." He heard a sweet, female voice, and turned to see a young woman, sitting cross-legged on a tree stump. She was slender, with short blond hair sticking up in unruly spikes and falling over her face. Her clothes were a little ragged, with soft trousers falling just below her knees and a tunic over the top, both the colours of the trees around them. She wore no shoes, and was very pretty, with pale skin and small features, although there was a sadness in her eyes. Henry returned her smile.

"I'm Henry," he said. "Thank you for taking care of me."

She shrugged, as though it was nothing. "I'm Kerby," she said. "Are you hungry, Henry?"

Henry found that he was, and took the fruit she held out with enthusiasm. Kerby watched as he munched on the apples and pears. While he ate, she explained that she had found him lying unconscious, and that she had taken care of him since then. Henry explained how he had come to be in Neverland, and that his family would be searching for him. She said that she was trying to get to the Lost Boys' camp, as she had something to deliver to them, and asked whether he wanted to come with her.

"If your family manages to get here, that's where they'll end up," she said. "Not much goes on here without the Lost Ones finding out about it. My guess is they already know you're here, so you may as well wait for your family in some comfort." She smiled at him as she said it, and Henry agreed.

* * *

Gold slept briefly, and awoke when he heard the others pass the cabin he was using. He pushed himself upright, stretching with a creak of leather, and followed the others to Hook's quarters, slipping into a chair as Emma dished out plates and David placed the familiar dishes of dried meat, biscuits and fruit on the captain's table.

"One of you could make yourself useful and catch us some fish while I sleep," grumbled Hook, looking bleary-eyed as he poked at the biscuits unenthusiastically.

"I'll do it," offered Lily, popping a piece of meat into her mouth. Hook grunted.

"First order of business has to be Henry," said Emma firmly. "I take it we still haven't gotten anything out of the two downstairs?" She looked expectantly from left to right.

"Well, we could find out whether they're more talkative this morning," offered Gold, tearing a piece of meat into long, thin strips. "I understand Mr Mendell was a little on the hungry side after his – encounter – with Regina yesterday."

"We could just rip his heart out and _make_ him tell us," offered Regina bluntly, and held up her hands as Emma, David and Mary Margaret turned matching glares on her. "Keep your shirts on! I didn't say I was going to _do_ it, I'm just throwing it out there as an option."

"Why don't we see how they're feeling?" suggested Gold calmly, before one of the Charmings could respond.

David pushed his chair back and picked up a plate of food. "Let's do that," he said grimly. Gold, Regina, Mary Margaret and Emma followed him out, Hook and Lily remaining at the table. David unlocked the door to the storeroom and strode in, the others crowding behind him. Greg and Tamara jerked awake, casting frightened glances at those that had entered. David passed the plate of food to Mary Margaret, and folded his arms across his chest.

"Good morning," he said, sounding as though he didn't mean it. "Are we feeling more cooperative?"

Gold sidled past him to lean against the wall of shelves opposite Tamara, tapping his fingertips together. She and Greg shot him nervous looks, then returned their eyes to David. Tamara nodded slowly.

"We'll talk," she said abruptly, biting off the words. Greg nodded vigorous agreement. Gold raised his eyebrows as he glanced at the others.

"Congratulations, Miss Blanchard," he said pleasantly. "It appears that hunger trumps fanaticism."

If the Charmings were surprised by this sudden turn of events, they didn't show it, and the way the prisoners' eyes followed the plate of food gave enough reason for their change of heart. Emma shouldered in next to her father.

"Where's Henry?" she said urgently, and Tamara shrugged.

"We don't know," she said. "We had him, but he escaped. He could be anywhere."

"Why did you come here?" asked Mary Margaret, and Tamara hesitated.

"We were told to," she said reluctantly. "The people we work for – they were feeding us instructions in Storybrooke. When we told them about the beans, they told us what to do."

"How?" Regina asked coldly.

"By email," explained Greg, his voice a little hoarse. "They sent us instructions, and we sent back photos, video footage and email descriptions of what was going on in Storybrooke. When we sent them footage of Henry, they were very interested in getting him here. We don't know why they want him, we were just told to bring him."

"Which brings us to the big question," said Gold mildly. "Who do you work for?"

Tamara and Greg shared a look, then turned back to their captors.

"The Home Office," said Tamara, her mouth working as though she'd bitten something sour. Gold sighed, letting his head fall back against the shelves behind him.

"Come, come, dearie, we don't have all day," he drawled. "Now is the time to spill your guts." He gave her a sudden, toothy smile. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Tamara swallowed hard. "We think they're based in England," she said. "They seek out magic in our world and destroy it. Greg and I are field agents. We each receive instructions and send back data."

"And who commands you?"

"We don't have any names," she said quickly. "All communication was by email. I can tell you the names of other agents we've met on training sessions, and the others we've had contact with, but that's it. We don't know the identities of anyone higher than the field agents."

"So you're taking orders from someone, and you have no clue who it is?" said Emma incredulously. "Does that seem _wise_ to you?"

"We don't need to question anything!" spat Tamara, her eyes furious, burning with hate as she looked at her captors. "We know our mission is pure. Our belief is strong, and we are doing holy work by ridding the worlds of magic. _That's _why we're here in Neverland. This place is brimming with magic. Obviously the Home Office brought us here to destroy it!"

"With what, exactly?" scoffed Regina. "Righteous indignation will only take you so far, dear. To destroy magic – I can't even begin to think how you'd do that. You have no trigger anymore, and that would have only worked where the magic was brought by a curse. It wouldn't work here." She smirked, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

"They don't have any plans," said Gold, watching the prisoners. Greg shook a little under his gaze. "They were waiting for instructions, and my guess is they'll be waiting a long time." He put his head to the side, smiling slightly. "You clearly have nothing with which to communicate with your – masters. But I'm guessing you have an idea where Henry could be." His eyes gleamed as he watched Greg's face twitch slightly. "So that would be my next question."

"We don't know!" said Tamara quickly, looking desperately from David to Mary Margaret to Emma. "We had phones with maps on, but we lost them when you captured us. You can search us if you like – you won't find them!"

"We were taking him to a camp we were given directions to, but the location was on our phones," added Greg. "We've told you everything we know! We can give you the names we know of the others at the Home Office, but other than that we have no information. Certainly nothing on Henry." His expression was desperate. "You have to believe us!"

David sighed, and nodded to Regina. Curling her lip, she undid the prisoners' magical bonds with a flick of her wrist and watched as they fell upon the food Emma was holding out to them. David beckoned to the others and they made their way back to the captain's quarters, leaving Regina to watch over the prisoners as they ate.

"I think they're telling the truth," said Mary Margaret. Gold nodded.

"I agree," he said quietly. "They're pawns, nothing more. It's as I suspected. I have a feeling anyone working for the 'Home Office' back in our world may suddenly begin feeling rather isolated. They've got what they wanted. They wanted Henry. The question is, why?" The last sentence was said in a whisper, almost to himself.

"So, we get the names and any other info from them, and then what?" said Emma, frustrated. Gold shrugged.

"Then we let them go," he suggested. "They can't cause any trouble here now that they've already served their purpose. Does anyone have any objections to leaving them in Neverland when you return?"

Emma noticed his use of the word 'you', rather than 'we', and frowned slightly. "No."

David and Mary Margaret shook their heads grimly.

"I thought you'd want to kill them," said Mary Margaret, eyeing Gold curiously. "Tamara killed your son."

"I don't need a reminder, thank you dearie," he said sharply. "I can certainly kill them if you prefer, but I felt that you'd want them to live. If your opinion's changed – well – I'd be more than happy to…"

"That won't be necessary," she said hastily. "I just – you've changed. For the better."

Gold's answering smile was bitter, more of a grimace.

"I'll get the info," said David. "We can use the Mirror to get in contact with Storybrooke and pass it along, just in case."

Gold nodded. "Belle said the cloaking spell had been cast, but I always feel it's better to have more information rather than less. We should share anything we find with them. We don't know whether these two left any more surprises for the town before they jumped through the portal."

"Then that's another question to add to the list," remarked David, pushing himself to his feet. "I'd better check Regina hasn't beaten them up again."

* * *

Ruby bounced out of Granny's with a smile on her face. It was her day off, and she was looking forward to spending some time with Belle and later on…well, she'd wait and see if Alex came to visit. She had enjoyed their date; she'd kissed him three times. The first time, he was so surprised she had to do most of the work herself, but the second time was far better and the third…she remembered the feel of his lips on hers and his fingers in her hair outside Granny's. She had not thought about Peter once, which made her feel both guilty and a little sad, as though she was closing a door on a chapter of her life. Ruby had tried to tell herself that moving on had to occur at some point, and was feeling optimistic. She tried the library, then, finding the door locked, headed to Gold's shop. Pushing open the door, she found Belle in the back room, surrounded by books and with dark shadows beneath her eyes, looking pale and drawn. Ruby's good mood dropped a little as she grew concerned for her friend.

"Hey," she said gently. "Didn't you sleep?"

Belle shrugged, pushing the heavy book in her arms onto one of the shelves. "Not much. Nightmares." She bit her lip. "Ruby, I'm so worried he thinks he's got nothing to lose. I'm scared he's going to do something ridiculously brave and self-sacrificing, that he won't come back to me."

Ruby hugged her, and Belle rested her head on her shoulder with a sigh for a moment, before pulling back. She was so tired her head was spinning.

"What's with the suicide mission, anyway?" asked Ruby, confused, and Belle sighed again.

"He lost Baelfire," she explained. "Maybe he thinks that dying to save Henry is the best way to honour his memory."

"Baelfire was shot," nodded Ruby, thinking. "He fell through a portal. What if he didn't die?"

Belle looked up, sharply. "You think he might still be alive?"

"It's possible," Ruby shrugged. "We don't know where he ended up. He probably landed in some hell-hole of an alternate world and bled out, but we don't _know_ that."

Belle winced at Ruby's bluntness, but had to admit that she had a point.

"I'll look into it," she decided. "I'll ask Mother Superior. She knows about travel between worlds, doesn't she?"

"There's a Council meeting at midday," Ruby reminded her, and Belle nodded.

"I'll speak to her afterwards," she said, and turned a watery smile on Ruby. "So, come on, how was your date?"

Ruby grinned. "We kissed. Three times, actually. I'm hoping he'll ask me out again tonight."

Belle smiled fondly at her excitement. "I'm happy for you, Ruby. Just be careful."

Ruby frowned. "What do you mean? He's nice."

"He's an outsider," said Belle gently. "That's not to say that he's a bad person. It just means you could have a lot of explaining to do."

Ruby looked irritated, but a part of her secretly agreed with Belle's caution. "Well, tonight'll be the last time I can take advantage of him for a few days. It's almost wolf's time."

"I'd forgotten," said Belle slowly. "But, you have your cloak. You don't change now, do you?"

"Only if I want to," Ruby confirmed, with a grin. "But I like running in the woods. He can wait a few days." Her grin widened. "The anticipation will heighten the senses."

Belle rolled her eyes. "You truly are a hedonist, Miss Lucas."

"I'm a physical being, Miss French," said Ruby pertly, flicking her hair.

* * *

At the Council meeting, Belle explained that she had been in touch with Rumple and described the Mirror that he had. The Council members shared excited looks; there was a way to communicate with those now in Neverland.

"I've been trying to keep a mirror near me at all times," said Belle. "I think you all should too. That way, if they try to contact any one of us, we'll be ready."

The others nodded in agreement.

"The town is secure," Leroy said. "No strange folks at the borders, nothing weird going on. My guess is we can carry on as normal until they get back to us."

"Unacceptable!" Spencer's loud bark rang around the room, making them all jump. He was looming in the doorway, chin raised pugnaciously and arms folded across his chest. Mother Superior got to her feet.

"This is a Council meeting, a closed session," she began. "Any business you have to bring to us can wait until the town hall meeting on Monday."

"Do you expect me to stand by while our town is put in danger?" he snapped. "There's a stranger amongst us, a man who shouldn't be here. We all know the consequences of outsiders coming to Storybrooke. He needs to be dealt with!"

Ruby bounced up out of her chair. "He's done no-one any harm!" she said hotly. "He's a young man who can't get home. He deserves our help, not threats from the likes of you!"

Spencer looked down his nose at her. "Well, I might have guessed the town harlot would take his side," he sneered. "Just how long did it take you to spread those long legs for him, my dear?"

Ruby went white with shock. Belle let out a snarl of anger and Granny leapt to her feet.

"How dare you talk that way about my Ruby!" she shouted. "You take that back, you jumped-up pile of ogre-crap!" She was enraged, her ample chest heaving and her eyes flashing fiercely as she looked around. "Where's my damn crossbow!"

Leroy had already skirted the table and was standing in front of Spencer with a look of disgust on his face.

"Get the hell out of here before I throw you out," he snarled, and Spencer's lip curled.

"I should have executed you when I had the chance, _dwarf_," he said coldly.

"King George!" Archie's voice, firm but loud, cut across everyone else, and he leant on the table towards the bristling D.A. "We appreciate the warning, Your Majesty, and we will discuss the possible danger to this town with the utmost urgency and then consult with the people when a decision has been reached."

Spencer opened and closed his mouth, but there seemed little he could say in the face of such calm reasonableness. He nodded curtly.

"At least one of you displays a little sense and respect," he said grudgingly. "Just don't take too long about it, or I take matters into my own hands!" He swept from the room, leaving a palpable wave of indignation in his wake.

"That guy is a total – a total – _asswipe_!" spluttered Leroy, fuming. They all took their seats again, grumbling. Belle squeezed Ruby's arm comfortingly, but her friend was looking worried rather than angry.

"They'll hurt Alex." It was a statement, not a question, and Archie sighed.

"I fear so," he said gently. "We can try to reassure the townsfolk, but once Spencer gets his teeth into something, he can be rather tenacious."

"But it's not fair!" blurted Ruby, looking from one to the other, visibly upset. "He hasn't done anything wrong! It's not _his _fault he was inside the town limits when we cast the spell."

"We could always take him somewhere safe," suggested Mother Superior. "We could hide him. I must confess having a stranger in town again makes me nervous, but I dislike the idea of him being harmed as much as you do."

Belle sat forward suddenly. "I think I know just the place," she said, with a smile.

* * *

"So…I'm being taken out to some cabin in the back of beyond…why, exactly?" asked Alex, trudging along behind Ruby and Belle with a bag containing the few clothes he had bought in his hands and a rucksack that Ruby had packed slung over his shoulders. Belle looked over her shoulder at him, blue eyes shining innocently.

"We feel you'd be more comfortable there," she said brightly. "It's out of the way of the rest of the town, and you have all the woods to relax in. There's internet. I made Mr Gold put a connection in a few months back." She turned back around as they marched on. Confused, but deciding to wait until he was alone, hopefully with Ruby, he followed. They came across the cabin after half an hour or so, Belle unlocking the door and handing Ruby the key as she pushed the door open.

"Home sweet home," she said cheerfully, and proceeded to give him a tour of the cabin, which didn't take long. "There's clean bedding in the closet, and plenty of food in the cupboards. Log pile's out front on the porch, and there's more in the crawl-space beneath. Look, there's the internet connection."

Alex put his bundles down slowly, looking at Ruby, and Belle grinned widely.

"I'll just go and – check outside," she said, and Ruby rolled her eyes at Belle's lack of subtlety. She turned to Alex as the door banged behind her friend.

"It's only for a few days, until we can get you out of here," she said soothingly. He shrugged uncomfortably.

"I don't know, Ruby – you say I could be in danger, and you bring me out to a cabin in the woods?" He looked around uneasily. "Sounds like a horror movie in the making."

"If pitchfork-wielding mobs come to the door, you're not at home," said Ruby, with a grin, and kissed him, making his eyebrows climb into his hair. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to her lips pressing against his, but he certainly enjoyed it. His arms went around her as the kiss deepened, before she pulled away and held up the rucksack.

"I packed you some things," she announced. "Bread, milk, cheese, and some hamburger patties. There's a hotplate for cooking. You won't starve." She grinned at him. "I'll be back in a few days."

"A few days?" he said, alarmed, and her smile became coy.

"Time of the month," she whispered, and flounced out of the door, leaving Alex perplexed. He looked around the cabin, and fished his phone from his bag, intending to use the internet connection to make contact with the Home Office. He had received no response to his emails that day, and wanted to inform them of his change in situation while he waited for further instructions.

* * *

"When do we let them go?" David strode back into the captain's dining-room, Regina following, looking a little put out. Gold shrugged.

"I suggest we take them to shore and release them, so we can get on with the rescue mission," he said calmly. "I'll take them myself. It won't slow us down. I'd rather make sure they're running in the opposite direction when we set off."

David and Mary Margaret exchanged glances, then brief nods.

"Okay," said David. "Gold, you can take them to the shore and let them go. Take Emma with you." He turned to his wife. "We need to prepare."

She nodded. "I've been thinking about what we should take…" Their conversation faded as they moved along the corridor out of earshot. Gold sat down in the captain's chair, lounging with his feet up on the table, a tiny smirk on his face. Emma watched him closely. Regina was leaning against the doorframe, frowning slightly.

"You're a lot calmer than I thought you'd be," said Emma abruptly, leaning on the table and eyeing him suspiciously. "You're a hell of a lot calmer than _me_. What gives, Gold?"

He shrugged, tenting his fingers in front of his chest. "As I said, they're pawns. They're just following orders."

"And the Nuremburg defence – that's a runner, as far as you're concerned?" She straightened up and folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him. He pulled a face.

"I didn't say I was happy about what they've done," he admitted. "But I really feel that we have bigger problems out there."

Emma grumbled something incomprehensible. "I guess I'm still waiting for you to do whatever it is I won't approve of, but have to let slide," she admitted grudgingly. He smiled briefly, drumming his fingertips together rhythmically, and leant towards her.

"Are you really so eager for me to do something reprehensible, Miss Swan?" he asked softly, and she gave him a flat look.

"Just promise me you won't kill them," she said bluntly, and he showed his teeth.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

She frowned, but turned to walk out of the room and along to the upper deck. Smirking, he swung his legs to the floor and made to follow her at a distance, turning his body to pass by Regina, who was flinging scowls between him and Emma.

"This was _you_," hissed Regina, as he passed. Gold stopped and turned slowly on his heel to face her. Her eyes were bright, a slight, knowing smile on her face.

"What do you mean?" he asked mildly, and her smile widened.

"First they tell us they'd rather die than tell us anything, and then all of a sudden they're falling over themselves to talk to us," she said. "You did something, didn't you?"

Gold's mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Your Majesty," he said quietly, and Regina nodded, her gaze calculating.

"What are you planning?" she asked curiously. "You're planning something, Gold, I can tell. And my guess is it doesn't involve the Charmings."

He bared his teeth at her, white and gold shining in the light of the lanterns. "My plans are exactly that," he said softly. "Mine. We have to get Henry back. That's all that matters."

Regina sniffed. "Finally we agree on something," she said. "Very well, keep your secrets. As long as I get results, I couldn't give a damn what you're up to."

He pondered her words. "Then why don't you come with me when I free the prisoners?" he suggested. Her brow wrinkled in curiosity, and she nodded.

* * *

Greg and Tamara staggered a little as they were led to the small rowing boat that would take them to shore. Regina had bound them with magic once more, and she and Gold sat opposite them in the boat like sentinels as Emma rowed them to the distant beach. Once ashore, Emma dragged the boat up and looked for a place to tie off the rope, while Gold and Regina led the prisoners up into the jungle, out of sight of the ship. Out of sight of Emma. Regina waved her hand and made them sit down on the fragrant mulch beneath tall, gnarled tree trunks. Greg and Tamara pushed themselves up against the trees, looking nervously from left to right as though they were hoping for a way out. Gold squatted in front of them, his boots shining in the sunlight filtering through the trees, his leather coat pristine. Tamara wondered how he managed to look immaculate in a jungle after several days in the cramped confines of the ship. Magic, she supposed, with disdain. He noticed the curl of her lip, and smiled.

"Now," he said softly. "I'll take the information I wanted, and be on my way." He looked at them expectantly, and Tamara suddenly barked out a broken laugh.

"You don't seriously think I'm gonna tell you anything else after what you did?" she said scornfully.

"No," he admitted. "And while I could simply rip out your heart and _make_ you tell me…" His hand twisted in an approximation of the necessary movement, and the prisoners flinched, "I have a more interesting solution in mind."

"We told you," said Tamara urgently. "We lost our phones, we don't know…"

"I know, I know, you have, apparently, no recollection whatsoever of the maps you had leading to the camp where you were taking Henry." Gold's voice was dismissive. "But I can sense that you've seen this camp, that you know the route to follow. I don't need you to talk." He sat back a little, pausing, drawing out the moment. "I'll just take your eyes."

Tamara gasped, the heels of her feet and hands trying uselessly to scrabble backwards, the tree trunk stopping her from moving.

"_What?_" she squeaked, terrified, as he reached forwards. Gold tutted impatiently.

"Your _eyes_, dearie. I can enchant them to let me see what you've seen – it'll lead me right to the camp." He reached forward and Tamara wrenched at her bonds, desperate.

"No!" she shouted. "I haven't seen it! I don't know anything! Please!"

"Liar." Gold's fingers closed over her left eye, his left hand holding her jaw still.

"NO!" she shrieked, rolling her eyes as though that would somehow make his threat meaningless. "It wasn't me! It was Greg! He knows! Take his, not mine! Take his!"

"_Tamara!_" Greg's eyes were almost starting from his head, a shocked expression of utter devastation on his face, his jaw slack with horror. Gold released Tamara's head and sat back, a small smile spreading across his face.

"Your loyalty is to be commended," he said dryly. "What say you, Mr Mendell?" He turned to Greg, whose face was white with fear. Tamara was blubbering, equal parts relief and terror. The noise was irritating. Mendell, at least, was relatively stoic.

"Y–you don't want to do this," he stammered, trying to get as far from Gold as his ropes would allow. "I – I can show you! Yes! I'll show you the camp! Please!"

"Oh, but I do want to do this," breathed Gold. "And I'm not in the mood for a pointless waste of my time as you lead us on a merry dance across this island."

"Time's up," said Regina flatly. "Time was up for you a long time ago, Mendell."

"No!" Greg was panting, eyes searching desperately from left to right, for a means of escape, for Emma to save him. They could hear her, calling through the trees, searching for them. "No! No!"

"Yes." Gold gripped his head, closing his fingertips over the right eye. There was a burst of purple fire and a scream from Greg. He repeated the process with the left eye and settled back on his heels with two bluish-white orbs sitting in the palm of his hand. Greg shrieked as the light of the world disappeared and left him in thick, oppressive darkness. Tamara was crying, her face pushed into her knees as she tried to block out the noise.

"Enough of this!" snapped Regina, and waved her hand, silencing the man.

"Thank you," said Gold softly, looking over the enchanted eyeballs. He made the connection with them, pushing his thoughts into them, seeking for the memory of the image he wanted. The eyeballs suddenly quivered on his palm and rotated swiftly to the right, ahead through the jungle. He smiled.

"Does it work?" asked Regina urgently, and he nodded in satisfaction.

"Well now, dearie," he said pleasantly, and Tamara lifted her ragged, tear-stained face to his. "I imagine you're wondering whether I'll let you go now you've served your purpose."

She stopped crying, her face suddenly cautious, and he smiled slightly.

"I am going to let you go," he confirmed, smiling briefly as she seemed to sag with relief, the shadows beneath her eyes pronounced. "I want you to remember how you betrayed your lover and let go of everything you held so dear to save yourself."

"Whatever," she said flatly. "You've had your fun, you got what you wanted, now release me."

"Hmm." He sat for a moment, watching her, fingers tapping on the handle of his cane, as though debating something in his mind. "Do you know why we all ended up in Storybrooke?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Neal said…"

"Ah, Neal said," he interrupted, his voice a soft hiss. "Yes. My son. Baelfire. Three hundred years I was searching for him, for a way to get back to him. Three hundred years of scheming and plotting and bringing together the hundreds of threads I needed to get to that place, so that I could find him. So that I could tell him how much I loved him." She looked truly scared now, her eyes wide, her breath coming in tiny gasps. Gold leant forward, his eyes almost black. "And then you killed him," he whispered. "You shot my boy, my Baelfire. You took him from me. Did you really think I was just going to let that go?"

He carefully put his cane to the side, and shifted forwards onto his knees before her. Straightening up, he took her face in his hands. Tamara could smell the leather of his jacket, the spicy musk of his own scent beneath it as his hands curled around her cheeks, little fingers hooking under her jawline. She was too terrified to move, hyperventilating as she stared into the dark pits of his eyes. She gasped as the black irises seemed to grow larger, expanding until there was barely any white left surrounding them. Gold slowly leant forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before sitting back on his heels. Regina gasped as she saw the small, black circle left behind by the impression of his lips. The circle seemed to spin counter-clockwise, shrinking in on itself as though it were drilling down into Tamara's skull, before disappearing beneath the skin. Tamara shook her head clumsily, as if she were trying to dislodge something. Gold smiled.

"The Dark One's kiss," he explained pleasantly. "That is only the second time in over three centuries that I've used it. The first was on the Duke of the Frontlands." He picked up his cane again, shifting his position slightly as he made himself more comfortable. "You see, before I became the Dark One, the Duke hid in his castle while he made men go and fight the ogres. It was a slaughter of course, a pointless slaughter. Thousands of men killed, countless numbers wounded so they could no longer fight." He tapped his lame leg as an example, and heard Regina gasp behind him. "The worst of it was, it could all have been avoided. The Duke was controlling the Dark One, and it would have been the easiest thing in the world to free him and let him stop the ogre wars. But the Duke just couldn't give up that power. Power corrupts, I'm told. Wouldn't know anything about that myself, mind you." He grinned, his expression almost self-deprecating. He was watching Tamara closely, her eyes still wide, her breathing still fast. He could hear Regina behind him, moving closer, curious as to what he had done.

"Eventually, of course, the Duke ran out of soldiers from the peasants in his villages," he continued. "So he moved on to their children. Boys and girls, as young as fourteen, sent away to certain death. When they came to take Baelfire, I was desperate enough to make a deal with anyone. And that's how I became the Dark One." Tamara was jerking slightly in her bonds, her eyes flicking anxiously from right to left. "When I'd stopped the war and led the children to safety, I went to visit the Duke, and gave him the same gift I've just given you." He put one long finger under Tamara's chin, and raised her head to face him.

"A piece of the darkness," he breathed. "A taste of the madness. You'll feel it growing inside you, but, unlike me, you won't be able to control it. The paranoia will grow. You'll trust no-one. Your closest friends will become feared enemies. On the rare occasion that you manage to sleep, you will be haunted by nightmares so real, so terrifying, that you won't ever want to sleep again. Of course, that'll just make the madness worse." He leant towards her, put his mouth next to her ear. "The Duke murdered his own wife and son because he was convinced they were trying to poison him," he whispered, making her shiver. "They say that when he realised what he'd done, his screams shook the walls of the fortress." He sat back, smiling at her. "That's the best thing about my little gift, the moments of lucidity. Moments when you will be perfectly aware of what you've done, aware that you're going mad. Eventually the Duke threw himself off the tallest tower in the keep. I was there for that. He'd lasted three months." He put his head to the side, looking at her curiously. "Perhaps you'll manage six." He heaved himself to his feet with the use of his cane, and turned to Regina. To his surprise, Emma stood next to her. Her face was set, her breathing heavy. He slipped the eyeballs into his pocket, out of her line of sight.

"Let them go," he said to Regina. She looked astounded.

"Gold…"

"Let them go, we don't need to kill them, Your Majesty." She gestured almost unthinkingly, releasing the magical ropes, not meeting his gaze. Tamara scrambled to her feet when she was free, her eyes darting from side to side. She grasped Greg's hand and pulled him with her into the undergrowth. When they were out of sight, a wordless, despairing cry drifted back to hang in the air. He turned back to Emma and raised a questioning eyebrow at her, his stance nonchalant, self-assured.

"Could you undo it?" she asked bluntly, and his lips twitched with a half-smile.

"Yes," he said softly.

Emma took a deep breath. "And will you?"

"No." His voice was quiet, but determined. He lifted one eyebrow and swept his hand to the left, palm down. To his surprise, she met his eyes fiercely and nodded, just once. A slow smile spread across his face.

"I believe we have somewhere to be," he said mildly, and began picking his way back through the trees towards the beach.

* * *

**A/N: So that's where the title of this fic comes from…I personally thought Gold would want Tamara's fate to be more drawn-out than a quick heart-crushing.**

**Hope you enjoyed. I may be late updating next time, as I'm going away for a couple of weeks, but I will do my best.**

**Please let me know what you thought xxx**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Mmmm, some great comments after my last update – thanks guys, it really means a lot that you're engaging with the story. I am ****_soooooo_**** not worthy…**

**Coming up: Spencer throws his weight around (again, seems to be a pattern with him), Pan takes an interest in our travellers, and Belle gets some unwelcome news…**

* * *

Gold, Emma and Regina walked in silence back to the shore. Emma would not meet the eyes of the others; she felt almost like a conspirator, as though it had been her actions that would eventually drive Tamara mad. A part of her, a dark, secret part, snarled that the bitch deserved it, but Emma was uncomfortable with wishing such a horrible fate on another person. She tried to put it from her mind; nothing could bring Neal back, and nothing could undo what Gold had done, short of the man himself. She wasn't about to press the issue. As they broke from the treeline, she noticed Mary Margaret, David, Lily and Hook making their way towards them.

"The prisoners have been released," said Regina coldly, and the others nodded. Emma was glad she didn't have to say anything.

"So," said Hook brightly. "Which direction are we headed in?"

"We need to head for the hills to the north," said Lily, pointing to a darkened ridge beyond the trees. Gold fingered the eyeballs in his pocket, remembering the direction they had pointed in, and nodded to himself.

"What's north?" asked David, and Lily grinned.

"Your boy will have been taken by the Lost Ones by now," she said. "They have several hideouts scattered across the islands, and they change where they stay, but I know where their main camp is. It's as good a place as any to start looking."

"You mentioned fairies," said Mary Margaret, her brow wrinkling in curiosity. "Back when we found out he couldn't be tracked by magic."

Lily sucked her teeth, pondering. "It's just a feeling," she said reluctantly. "If magic couldn't find him – sometimes Pan likes to get fairies to work for him. Let's say they owe him favours, or want something from him." She scowled. "Most of the time he'll take something from them and then make them do his bidding to get it back."

"So he blackmails them," said Emma flatly. "He sounds a real prince."

"He's a bloody demon," said Hook unexpectedly. "Don't let yourselves be fooled just because he has the face of a boy. That's a good way to die." He grimaced. "Believe me, I know. I've seen it happen to some of my crew, to my friends." He inhaled deeply, as though steeling himself against an invisible foe. "If you ever have him at your mercy, don't stay your hand. It could be the last act of weakness you ever suffer."

"The Captain's right," said Gold, mouth twisting as though he'd eaten something unpleasant. "Pan and his boys will kill you as soon as look at you. This place," he gestured to the land around them, "can turn your own mind against you. They'll use it to their advantage."

David raised an eyebrow at Emma, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

"Whoever the hell they are, they have my son," said Regina bluntly. "So I suggest we stop talking and start moving."

"First, we get in touch with Storybrooke," said David firmly. "We let them know what we've found out."

Regina grumbled slightly, but nodded agreement, and Gold waved his hand to summon the Mirror to them.

* * *

Alex drummed his fingers on the table nervously, looking at his phone. Belle had promised to bring him her laptop, so that he could access the internet in more comfort, but at present the message on the screen of his phone was causing him some difficulty. He had explained the situation; that he was in danger and had been hidden for his own protection. The message back from the Home Office was short and to the point: _Waiting for instructions. We need more information. Send back pictures and intelligence, or consider your position._ Alex had never thought of himself as a field agent; he had enjoyed cracking codes and hacking people's emails from the safety of the office. He had been convinced to accompany the field party as it would be good for his career, but so far all he had seen was an ordinary town full of ordinary people, some of whom were very nice. He was aware that he was becoming particularly attached to Ruby, and was starting to feel guilty about lying to her. Still, if he wanted to progress within the Home Office and gain access to the more interesting knowledge they possessed… He snatched up his jacket and slipped out of the door of the cabin, shoving his phone into his pocket. He had overheard Ruby and Belle talk about the Council meeting at six. If they considered him to be safely out of the way, they may have lowered their guard enough for him to do some spying.

* * *

"This meeting of the Storybrooke Town Council will come to order," announced Mother Superior, calmly. The town hall was packed, Storybrookers sitting in the rows of chairs in front of the stage, upon which sat all six members of the Council. Archie stood up.

"The first order of business…" he began, and was immediately interrupted by Spencer leaping to his feet.

"The first order of business is the safety and security of this town," he barked. He drew himself up to his full height. "You may be aware that we have a stranger amongst us," he went on, looking around the hall. Worried murmurs followed his announcement. "What you may _not_ be aware of is that this so-called Council refuses to take the necessary actions to protect you from him."

"If by that you mean that we refuse to let you kill an innocent young man for no reason," said Belle dryly. "Then, yes, you're correct."

Spencer scowled. "Innocence is entirely relative, my dear," he said condescendingly. "I'm sure that, compared to your _lover_, he's a veritable angel."

Belle flushed, partly with embarrassment and partly with anger.

"What are we going to do about him?" someone called, and Spencer smiled.

"Well, we all remember what happened the last time strangers came to town," he declared. There was a chorus of affirmations and a ripple of nods throughout the crowd. "We've all seen him wandering the town, poking his nose into things that don't concern him. I suggest we deal with this threat swiftly."

Belle was shocked at the number of the townsfolk that were nodding along with Spencer. She traded alarmed glances with Archie, and he nodded curtly.

"This threat is no longer an issue," he said loudly. "The man in question has left the town." It wasn't really a lie; he had certainly left the town, just not the area of Storybrooke itself.

"Well, that should fix it, then." Belle recognised Mr Tillman, from the garage. "He won't be able to get back in or lead others to us. Problem solved."

Belle bit her lip. To her right Ruby looked equally anxious. Spencer was watching them curiously.

"When you say he's left the town," he said. "Where did he go? Did you see him cross the line?" He noticed Archie hesitate, and jabbed a finger at him. "There! He's lying to us! That man is still here!" He swung around, fixing the townsfolk with a baleful glare. "He could be up to anything! He could have brought another trigger to destroy this place! We have no clue who he is or what he wants! If this Council is serious about protecting you, it needs to let _me_ deal with him!"

There were shouts of agreement, although some people were shaking their heads.

"We've seen what happens when you deal with people, Spencer!" spat Leroy, his lip curling. "You're a goddamn tyrant! I may not want the boy here, but he ain't done no harm that I can see. Quit trying to be King all over again – you were never any good at it back home."

Spencer bristled. "So speaks the rebel and traitor that helped to overthrow two legitimate rulers," he sneered. "In the Enchanted Forest I would have had your head stuck on a spike above my castle walls, dwarf! Now, I don't need your help to deal with this problem. Who's with me?"

Belle was unpleasantly surprised at the number of people standing. Many of them, she suspected, had been Spencer's own guards in their former lives.

"We won't tell you where he is," said Ruby defiantly, and Spencer smiled.

"I wouldn't expect you to," he said mildly. "But we'll hunt him down nonetheless. There are only so many places he can hide." He turned and swept from the room, a crowd of perhaps thirty townsfolk following him out. The Council exchanged glances.

"I have to warn him," said Ruby, scrambling to her feet. "I have to tell him to get out."

"I could come," offered Belle, but Ruby shook her head, unfastening her cloak.

"You'd slow me down," she said bluntly. "I can outrun them this way." She sprinted down the hall and out of the door, and Mother Superior sighed.

"Continue, Archie," she said, attempting to be calm as they dealt with the more mundane business of running the town. Granny leant towards Belle.

"Spencer's right about one thing," she murmured. "The boy's been all over town – his scent's everywhere. I hope Ruby can narrow it down enough to track him."

Beneath the stage, hidden behind some boxes, mobile phone set to record the meeting, Alex shivered with shock and fear at the harsh realities of Storybrooke and the danger he was now facing.

* * *

Henry and Kerby made camp beside a stream that provided water for tea and a fat brown trout for their dinner. Henry had watched, fascinated, as the girl reached into the stream and seemed to hook out the fish with ease. She had offered to teach him the trick, and he was eager to try, managing to tickle one of the fish up onto the bank after only a few attempts. Clapping with delight, Kerby flicked the fish back into the water, and proceeded to clean the one she had caught. It was cooking beside the fire with some sort of fresh greens that Henry thought might be similar to spinach, when she frowned, sighed, and clutched at her chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and she shot him an apologetic look.

"I have to go somewhere, just for a short while," she explained. "Eat up, you'll be safe here." She stood, flicking her hand around the area in which they were camped, and turned away.

"You can do magic." Henry stated it as fact, and she stiffened, her shoulders sagging slightly.

"A little," she said, over her shoulder, and Henry noticed the sadness in her voice. "Enough to keep us safe and undetected." And with that, she melted into the undergrowth.

* * *

Ruby moved as a wolf through the darkness of the forests surrounding Storybrooke, the scent of Spencer and his followers sharp in her nostrils. She loved being the wolf; her senses were heightened, her experiences of the world around her richer because of it, and the memories when she awoke the next day pleasantly primal. The only downside, as she saw it, was a desire to eat more meat than she could stomach for a few days afterwards, although with the ready supply of good food at Granny's, she decided it could have been a worse fate. She slunk forwards, belly low to the ground, as she listened to the men ahead of her, heard their shouts back and forth and smelled the torches some of them carried. The human part of her brain wondered idly if any of them were carrying pitchforks.

"Fan out, men!" barked Spencer. "My guess is those idiot women hid him out here somewhere. Gold has a cabin – I suggest we check there first in case his concubine thought it was a good hiding-place."

Ruby growled low in her throat, itching to rush at the man and tear out his windpipe. The rain was starting to fall, soft on her fur, its clean scent filling her nostrils and blocking that of the men ahead. She shook the water from her muzzle, flicking her tail and skirting around the group to get ahead of them. She growled as she realised that they were heading straight for the cabin, and decided that this was the time to make a stand. The men at the front of the hunting party started as the bushes rustled and Ruby turned to face them, rising up to her full height, throwing back her head and letting out a plaintive howl.

* * *

Alex stumbled through the woods towards the cabin, shivering as the rain soaked him. He had crawled from beneath the town hall stage as soon as the hall had emptied, brushing dust and cobwebs from himself, and had immediately raced back up the track that led into the forest. He had kept a sharp eye tuned to his surroundings, but had heard townsfolk shouting to one another that 'King George' had gone to the warehouses by the docks to search for him. Taking the opportunity presented, he ran as fast as he could towards the woods. He would take his few belongings, and leave. The Home Office couldn't seriously expect him to stay if his life was in danger.

* * *

Belle slipped into her chair with a sigh and let her head roll back. Ruby had not returned or made contact, and she was anxious for her friend. She still had work to do, however, so she pushed herself upright and reached for a book wearily. She had read everything she could find on portals, which wasn't much, and had moved on to magic beans. Mother Superior had told her that, in order to reach a particular world, you had to think of it as you threw the bean. There was no telling which world Tamara had been thinking of when she threw the bean that had resulted in Baelfire's disappearance. Belle pondered whether it would be Neverland, but she elected not to share her thoughts with Rumple at this stage. She didn't want to distract him when he was already in danger.

"Belle." His voice, coming from the mirror on the table beside her, made her jump. Her lips curved upwards in a smile as she turned the mirror to face her, but her expression changed as she saw his face.

"Rumple?" she asked anxiously. "What's wrong?"

He grimaced. "Nothing. This place – it gets inside your head." He smiled sadly. "You look beautiful."

"I look tired," she corrected with a smile. "I'm not sleeping well. But I'm glad you're here." She touched the image of his face. His answering smile was brief.

"I'm afraid this is more of a business call," he apologised. "We obtained some information. From Greg and Tamara."

Belle frowned suspiciously. "When you say you 'obtained' it, what do you mean?"

He actually had the nerve to clutch at his chest and look affronted, which made her raise her eyebrow with a fond, if rueful, smile.

"I didn't kill them," he said patiently. "The Prince here can vouch for me. He's going to run through it all with you." He stepped back to let David into Belle's field of vision.

"It's true, Belle," announced David, rolling his eyes at Rumple. "Good, old-fashioned hunger did the trick. A few days without food and they were falling over themselves to tell us everything. We released them earlier today."

David's open, honest face reassured Belle that he was telling the truth. Rumple's expression, however, was carefully neutral, which made her frown slightly, thinking that there was probably more to this story. She decided that there were more important things to worry about with the clock ticking on their conversation.

"Information?" she prompted, and David held up a few sheets of paper.

"Everything they knew about this Home Office they work for, along with names, email addresses and details of other missions," he said, satisfied. "Turns out they were pretty far down the pecking-order, so there are no names above their own level, but hopefully it'll mean you guys aren't flying completely blind."

"Hold on, let me get a pen," said Belle absently. She picked up the nearest one to her and began to write down the names that David was reeling out. "Yeah…yeah…got it…uh huh…wait!" She looked up, shocked. "Repeat that last one?"

David shuffled the pieces of paper. "Alex Talbot," he confirmed. "Belle? What's up?"

Belle sighed, pain creasing her features. "I think we have a problem."

* * *

"What do you want?" Kerby's voice was flat and hard, her arms folded, as she glared at the figure in front of her. He had the form of a teenage boy, but she could see beneath to what he really was. The thought made her shiver slightly, and he smiled knowingly.

"Hardly the sort of greeting I would expect from such a loyal servant," he said airily, and she scowled.

"You said I had to do your bidding," she said bitterly. "Politeness wasn't part of the deal. What do you want of me?"

Pan made a face as though he were pondering the matter, walking slowly towards her, hands clasped behind his back. "I need you to use some of your magic to create a distraction for me," he said simply. He held up a small, round plaque between finger and thumb, and Kerby reached for it cautiously. It was made of stone, flattened and with a fluted edge. On one side was a carving of stylised flames; on the other, a grinning, evil face that made Kerby shiver.

"You'll need to channel your magic through that to achieve what I want," added Pan. "There are people on this island who shouldn't be here, so we're going to have some fun with them."

"_None_ of you should be here," interrupted Kerby acidly, and he waved a dismissive hand.

"Let's not spilt hairs," he said calmly. "Do this for me, and you'll be one step closer to getting what you want." He grinned at her. "If you can find the boy as well, we just might be able to reach an accord."

Her heart ached with hope and longing. "You mean you'll release me? Before my time?" Her eyes brimmed with tears, shining midnight-blue in the darkness.

"Of course," he said gently, raising an eyebrow, a slanted smile creeping across his face. "Why would I lie?"

* * *

"I still say they were lying," announced Regina, for what felt like the twentieth time since they had made camp. They had walked for several hours before dusk closed in around them, and were stretched out on the ground beside a crackling fire, eating the all-too-familiar dried meat and biscuits.

"They weren't," said Gold wearily, unconsciously feeling for the eyeballs in his pocket. "And Lily knows the way. Try to relax Regina. You know what happens when you get too uptight." He grinned suddenly. "You know, you shouldn't have killed Sheriff Graham. I imagine you're missing his brainwashed ardour. You really ought to find some sort of – release. Surely it's not beyond your abilities." He picked through the forest debris on the ground before him, and held up a tiny, forked twig, eyebrows quirking. "I can show you a spell that will turn this into something very – satisfying."

She glared at him, eyes flashing, and he rolled his own at her.

"Cut it out, you two," sighed Mary Margaret, throwing some more wood on the fire. The blaze was growing nicely, sending out a pleasing heat.

"So we're stuck out here for another night," snapped Regina, trying to get comfortable on the patch of ground she'd staked a claim to.

"Make the most of it, love," said Hook lazily, from his position against a tree. "Rest when it's quiet, fight when it isn't. Right now, it's quiet." He opened one eye, looking at her. "Relatively, I mean."

The fire sparked loudly, and Mary Margaret suddenly fell backwards with a cry as a gout of flame licked up from it, the fire suddenly growing to twice its size. David pulled her out of the way as the others got to their feet warily.

"I didn't do it," insisted Regina hotly, as they all looked at her.

"I'd like to go on record and say that I blame Hook and his 'it's quiet' comment for this," said David grimly.

Gold was staring at the flames, frowning. "There's something wrong here," he said slowly.

"The noise," said Mary Margaret suddenly. "The animals and insects – I can't hear anything, can you?"

The others listened uneasily to the deathly-quiet jungle around them, and Gold's frown deepened. Suddenly he straightened up, and with a flick of his wrist his cane and the Mirror disappeared. He walked backwards from the fire, his limp gone. "Get up!" he snapped. "We need to get out of here!" He pulled Lily to her feet, ignoring her protests and shoving the small pack she had carried at her. A roar from the flames made them all turn, and Emma shivered as the sound became more like a growl. Shapes were moving within the fire, forms of deepest black writhing and growing, and a plume of flame rose up, the shadows within taking the shape of giant dogs. Emma's eyes widened in horror.

_"Run!" _bellowed Gold, and dragged Lily along behind him as he took his own advice. The others followed, David bringing up the rear. Glancing over his shoulder he could see three dogs the size of horses stepping out of the fire and shaking their heads, long-limbed and deep-chested, fire seeming to drip from their jaws. Their bodies appeared to be made of bones and sinew, as though they were partly rotten, flesh barely clinging to the skeleton beneath. Fire rippled below the surface of their coal-black skin and in their eyes, as though they had been spat from the netherworld. They lifted their heads in unison and howled, the stench of blood, sulphur and decay wafting from them, and as one they fixed their eyes on those fleeing before them, muzzles lifted to catch the scent of their prey. Gold crashed through the forest, unseeing, shivering at the blood-soaked howls behind him. Hellhounds. Of all the things he never thought he'd see again…

"Running water!" he shouted over his shoulder. "We need to cross running water to stop them. Then I can cast the spell to banish them."

"Understood!" yelled Emma, and they increased their pace. Emma could see Lily ahead of her through the trees, Gold having moved out of her line of sight. Who would have thought the guy could move so fast when he wanted to? She heard the sound of a river ahead of her, and her heart leapt. She looked over her shoulder at Regina.

"The river!" she shouted, and squawked in surprise as she ran full-tilt into a thick hedge that had appeared from nowhere. She grunted as Regina ploughed into her before realising her mistake.

"What the hell?" she said, terrified, and looked behind her urgently. Another hedge, this one of bristling blackthorn bushes. Regina lifted her arms and blasted the hedge in front of them aside, but when Emma tried to take a step forward it appeared in the same place. She made a quick decision.

"This way!" she shouted, cutting to the right. "We'll find them again, but we have to get out of here!" She sprinted on, Regina panting behind her. David, Mary Margaret and Hook almost hit the hedge of blackthorn before turned away to follow the hill down to the east. The hellhounds chased after them for a while before _something_ seemed to cause them to change direction. Two of the creatures peeled off in different directions, one following each party of humans. Some distance to the north, Gold and Lily were half way across the narrow river as they realised they were no longer being followed by their companions. Lily gasped and halted, one foot on the stone poking from the fast-slowing stream. She craned her neck, looking in vain for the others as she bobbed up and down on her toes nervously. Gold frowned, a pace in front of her, his breathing heavy with exertion. It had been a long time since he'd run anywhere, but using magic to teleport to some unknown place seemed unwise when they were clearly being observed by unfriendly eyes.

"Are the others…?" asked Lily, frightened, and Gold shook his head slowly, feeling the air around him.

"Magic," he said softly. "It appears that Pan has decided to take notice of us. Divide and rule." His tone was wry. "I hope the others find a safe path." He took her hand again, giving it a comforting squeeze, and led her across to the bank on the other side.

"You knew what those things were," said Lily, curiously, as they walked up the steep bank to the safety of the trees. He nodded grimly, eyes scouring the undergrowth for hidden dangers.

"Hellhounds," he explained. "Brought from the underworld with magic. Hard to kill, because they don't belong in this world, and they're not truly alive." He shot her a confident grin. "But it's by no means impossible. I need about twenty minutes to prepare a spell that will banish them. The river will hold them at bay in the meantime."

Lily watched the opposite bank worriedly while he walked off a little way and reached into his jacket to check their bearing. The eyeballs swivelled in his palm, pointing ahead of them, and he smiled, pocketing them once more.

"Let me know if anything stirs," he called, combing the forest floor for what he needed to prepare the banishing spell. He quickly wandered out of sight, but ensured that he was within hearing distance in case she should call out. Lily watched the shadows, ears straining, almost afraid to blink.

"Well, good evening, Princess." A sly voice made her jump, and Lily turned to see a boy of about her own age melting from the undergrowth. He was tall, with light brown hair grown shaggily to his shoulders. "Pan will be _so _pleased I found you. Did you know your entire village is looking for you?" He was smirking at her, and Lily balled her fists, looking around frantically for a weapon.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded, playing for time, and the boy's grin widened.

"Your father has been using that power of his to keep the Lost Boys out of your miserable patch of jungle for too many years," he remarked carelessly. "Of course, we never had anything as valuable as you to bargain with before."

"Well, I think I may have lost my value," she said bitterly. "And if you've heard the rumours you'll know why."

"Rumour has it," said the boy, settling back on his heels, "that you've been kidnapped. But I can see that you're merely hiding in the woods like a snivelling coward. I thought better of the daughter of a chief."

She glared at him, wondering if she could simply make a break and run for it. She poised on the balls of her feet, and the boy moved quicker than she thought possible, tripping her and pinning her beneath him. Lily screamed and wriggled, fists flailing ineffectually. Suddenly the boy's weight was removed from her and she heard him cry out as he thudded against a tree.

"I believe the young lady is disinclined to accompany you," she heard Gold say in a low hiss, and she sagged with relief. She pushed herself up on her hands into a sitting position. The boy was pinned against a tree trunk with Gold's hands on his throat, the purple light of magic restraining him.

"What does the Dark One want with a redskin girl?" gasped the boy, glaring at Gold, and he grinned widely, pushing his face up close to his captive's. The boy gulped, jaw wobbling slightly under Gold's intense stare. Gold tightened his grip.

"She's under my protection," he breathed. "And if you touch her again, I will peel off _your_ skin and make you dance for me. Do we understand one another, boy?"

The boy nodded furiously, and Gold released him, letting him tumble to the floor and lurch away, whisking through the bushes to the left and out of sight. Gold brushed off his jacket and turned to Lily, who was scrambling back from him, her eyes wide.

"Y-you're the Dark One?" she stammered.

He nodded cautiously. "I am."

"I didn't know that the Dark One was a man," she said, her lip trembling. "I thought it was – a demon. All the legends say so."

His expression was wry. "I suppose it depends on your point of view."

She swallowed hard. "You kill fairies," she said, almost accusingly, and he nodded.

"From time to time." He eyed her curiously. "You have nothing to fear from me."

"Why should I believe you?" Her expression was guarded, and he regretted her finding out his true nature.

"Because I made a deal to protect you," he said gently, holding out his hand to help her up. "And I always honour my agreements."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and grasped his hand. At that point, a hideous growl was heard from across the river, and she gasped as Gold looked suddenly wary. One of the hellhounds had found its prey.

* * *

**A/N: Ooooh! So the gang is now divided. How will this affect them?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Once is deliciously dark this season…**

**Coming up, Ruby gives in to her wild nature, Hook creates a diversion, and Gold gets Lily to pull out some hair.**

**Don't worry, it'll all make perfect sense soon.**

* * *

David lurched after Mary Margaret and Hook, the howls of the remaining hellhound behind them making his flesh crawl. He risked a glance over his shoulder, even though he knew that to trip on the uneven ground would mean certain death. The hound was loping after them, gaining slowly. He thanked whatever slice of Hell had spat them out that they didn't appear to run too fast. Faster than the three humans, however.

"It's gaining on us!" he yelled, and Hook glanced back, eyes widening.

"Trees!" he shouted, gesturing from left to right with a desperate hand. "Get yourselves up a tree out of their way!"

This seemed as good a plan as any to David, given that they were being caught by their pursuer with no running water in sight. He flicked his gaze over the trees surrounding them, and hurled himself at the nearest one that looked as though it would be easy to climb.

"Mary Margaret!" he yelled. "This one!"

His wife turned, but shook her head and patted the trunk of another. "I'm smaller than you – you take that one!" she called. Her eyes were even wider than usual with anxiety and adrenaline, and his heart clenched with fear. If anything should happen to her…

Pushing that evil thought aside, he pulled himself up into the tree, fingers scrabbling above him for the next branch. His feet found easy purchase on the rough bark, and he swung himself up off the ground, hooking his leg over the branch above and using the momentum to pull himself up. Looking around desperately as he climbed, he could see that Hook had already climbed twice as high as himself, his hook making tree-climbing an easy occupation. Mary Margaret was shimmying up the trunk of a more slender, younger tree. She had been right; its branches would not have borne his weight, but they would have no difficulty with hers. He could see the hellhound bounding towards them, and struggled up another ten feet or so, well out of its reach. The creature flung itself at the trunk of his tree with a snarl, making it shake, and raked the bark with its claws, leaving deep gouges that gave off a heady smell of sap. David gazed down at it worriedly, his breath coming in heavy gasps. It was standing on its back legs, forelegs scratching the trunk as it reached up to its full height. Flame dripped from its mouth, and David hoped that the wood was damp enough in this humid jungle climate not to burn. The flames were extinguished with small hissing sounds as they fell against the bark of the tree and the leaf-litter beneath. The three humans watched warily as the hound went from tree to tree, trying to scramble up after them but falling back each time, its bulk pulling it down. Its growls intensified as its frustration grew, and it savaged the trees in a frenzy of rage, bark and wood chips flying. Hook leant his head against the trunk of his tree with a sigh and looked across at David and Mary Margaret.

"Not a bad plan," admitted David. Hook scowled.

"It's a temporary measure, mate," he called. "We can't stay here for long, that's for sure. We've no food, no bloody water…" He felt in his pocket, and perked up a little. "I've still got some rum, so it's not all bad news." He eyed them both, and shrugged. "Well, not for me, anyway."

"How are we supposed to get rid of this thing?" asked Mary Margaret. The hellhound was beneath her tree at that point, growling, its eyes clearly wishing her death. More out of frustration than any real hope it would be effective, she ripped off a small branch next to her and threw it down at the creature. It snapped at the branch, breaking it in two, and snarled up at her, flames rippling beneath the flesh of its massive shoulders.

"My guess is, we sit here and wait for one of our magical mates to save us," said Hook cheerfully, taking a swig of rum. "I just hope it's not the crocodile. I'd never be able to live that down."

Mary Margaret looked around, frowning. "Which way's north?" she asked, and Hook transferred his rum to his pocket so that he could dig out his compass.

"That way," he said, pointing. "What's on your mind, love?"

She stood up on the branch she was sitting on, clinging to the one above.

"I'm just wondering if I can reach that tree," she said thoughtfully, jerking her head in the direction of the one next to her. "If I can head north, where the others went, maybe I can get one of them to come back here with a – spell – something – to get rid of it."

"Assuming you can find them," drawled Hook, "and assuming they're not already the latest flavour of hellhound kibbles-and-bits, how do you propose to get back? What if it follows you?"

She grinned then. "If it follows me, so much the better! You two can get down and run after the others."

David shook his head. "Okay, Snow, so far I am _not_ loving this plan."

"I climbed tree to tree all the time when I was on the run from Regina," she protested, warming to the idea. "I can do this!"

"I don't think we should separate," he warned, and Hook shrugged.

"I'm inclined to agree with your husband, love," he said lazily. "Especially if it means I'm stuck with him instead of your lovely self."

"Would you stop hitting on members of my family for two seconds and come up with something useful!" snapped David, his patience with the pirate at an end. Hook donned an affronted expression, and shifted his position.

"Just trying to lighten the mood," he said easily, gesturing with his open rum bottle. Liquid sloshed inside, droplets springing from the top as though eager to be free, and David's eyes widened as he realised what was about to occur.

"NO!" he shouted, but it was too late. The raw alcohol splashed down the trunk towards the slavering hellhound, and immediately caught alight from the flames dripping from its fiery maw. Hook yelped with shock, scrambling to his feet, and almost fell out of the tree. His arms pinwheeled, his hook flailing at the branches for purchase, and he dropped the rum bottle entirely. Spirit sloshed down the bark in a fragrant stream. A sheet of fire immediately flowed up the trunk of the tree and Hook scrambled higher, pulling himself out of the way. The hellhound appeared unfazed by the addition of flames; in fact, it seemed to draw strength from them. David stared in horror as it seemed to grow in stature, until it was another few feet taller than before.

"Nice job!" he snarled, pulling himself further up his tree. The creature howled and chewed at the trunk of Hook's tree, causing the fire to spread around the trunk. Hook was clearly frightened, casting his eyes about for an escape route.

"Over here!" called Mary Margaret, gesturing to her side, but he shook his head.

"I jump on there with you, love, and the lot goes down!" he shouted. His boots were getting uncomfortably warm; the fire was spreading further. He raised his eyes to the sky and sighed regretfully.

"Nothing for it," he muttered, then raised his voice. "It's your lucky day, lovebirds! I'm going to provide a distraction." He slipped around the trunk of the tree, on the opposite side to the hellhound, which was still preoccupied with chewing on the trunk and spreading its fire. Hook climbed down to one of the lower branches.

"No!" shouted Mary Margaret, realising his intention. "Just – find another tree!"

"Oh, I will," he assured her, showing his teeth in a wide, confident smile. "Assuming I'm still alive two minutes from now," he added under his breath. Steeling himself, he lowered himself as gently as he could to the ground, and started running as fast as his legs could carry him. David and Mary Margaret watched anxiously, but for a few minutes the hellhound did not seem to notice. When it finally spotted that one of its prey was missing, it raised its muzzle in a furious howl and set off in pursuit. David and Mary Margaret climbed down, coughing with the smoke, and hugged fiercely, bodies sagging with relief. They turned their heads to look after the direction Hook had gone in.

"Brave," admitted Mary Margaret, and David chuckled.

"Some would say 'stupid'," he said, hugging her again. After a moment they broke apart, and started to head north, holding hands as they walked along.

"Let's try to find some running water," suggested David, and his wife nodded assent.

"Who would have thought a few dogs would be so much trouble?" he added, and she chuckled.

"I'd rather deal with wolves, any day."

* * *

Ruby snarled at the men facing her, now backing away from her with fear in their eyes. They reeked of terror, and that was all to the good. If she could simply scare them away from the cabin, no-one needed to get hurt. It had been a long time since she had killed a man, and she didn't particularly want to if she didn't have to.

"It's only a wolf!" shouted Spencer, waving a torch menacingly. "One of you idiots must have a gun! Shoot it!"

Ruby curled her lip, which was all the more impressive in her wolf-form. It showed her huge fangs, glistening with saliva. She growled low in her throat, crouching to spring, and the men's nerve broke. They ran from her, tossing their weapons at Spencer, who faced down the huge wolf in front of him. He didn't lack for guts, Ruby had to give him that. He picked up one of the dropped guns and pointed it at her, and if wolves could laugh, she would have roared with mirth. Unless that gun carried silver bullets, he was in serious trouble. He fired at her, and a shot hit her chest with a hefty thump that stung more than really hurt her. In that instant she leapt at his chest, pushing him back hard against a tree. Spencer's head smacked against the trunk and Ruby drew back, trying to suppress the urge to bite out his throat. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, and she growled, nudging him with her nose. His head was bleeding, his breathing shallow, and she felt that he was likely to be out for some time. She lifted her muzzle, sniffing for the scent of the others with him, and picked up their trail, heading back towards the town. Satisfied that she was unlikely to be followed, she loped off in the direction of the cabin, the rain soaking her fur.

* * *

Emma and Regina pounded through the forest, looking over their shoulders every now and again for a sight of the creatures pursuing them, or for their comrades. The magically-summoned hedges had pushed them in one direction for the past fifteen minutes, but they had also blocked pursuit by the hellhounds, for which Emma was grateful. They had been running on adrenaline, but that could only last so long, and both women were getting tired.

"Running water," she panted, looking back at Regina. "We need to find a stream, a river, anything."

Regina nodded wearily, and at that moment the hedges on either side of them disappeared, leaving them in open jungle once more. Emma looked around frantically, trying to get her bearings, trying to see if danger was following them. They both slowed to a stop, and Regina rested her hands on her knees, gasping for air.

"Where the hell are we?" asked Emma, and the older woman sighed, straightening up. She held out her hand and a small arrow, gleaming with the purple fire of magic, appeared on her palm, swivelling until it pointed off to their left.

"North is that way," she said confidently, and they set off at a brisk walk, although their legs were wobbling with their previous efforts. They had been walking for perhaps five minutes when they heard a blood-curdling howl from behind them, and stared at one another in terror. Looking over their shoulders, they could see a dark and flaming shape pounding down the hill towards them.

"We need to find water!" said Emma desperately, and Regina quickly cast another spell, pointing with her finger.

"That way!" she shouted. "It's close, just behind those trees."

They ran in the direction she had pointed, rounding the trees as the hellhound gained on them, and Emma's heart shrivelled in her chest. There was water, alright, but it was a large pond, not a river. Not even a stream. The surface of the pond was as still as glass.

"Quickly!" snapped Regina, and grasped Emma's hand. The blonde woman started and tried to pull away, but then she felt the magic that Regina was using, the way that she was lifting the water, the way that she was making it flow around them in a circle. Emma closed her eyes and joined in as best she could, allowing her magic to meld with Regina's. Once the spell was working, she dared to open her eyes. The hellhound was pacing around the circle of flowing water, eyes burning as it snarled at its prey, desperate to get past the barrier. She could smell its breath from where she was standing, and it reeked of decay and sulphur. It made her want to gag.

"How long can we keep this up?" asked Emma, already feeling tired, and Regina shook her head.

"I don't know," she admitted, perspiration beading on her forehead.

"Gold said he had a spell to banish them," said Emma, wiping her own sweat from her brow. Regina's lip curled.

"Great, so then we're beholden to him for something," she spat. "Never a good option, Miss Swan."

"Oh, so you think being eaten alive by devil-dogs is better?" snapped Emma, rising to the bait. "You need to start trusting your companions, Regina. We all have the same goal. We all want to save Henry."

Regina laughed coldly. "You'd be better off trusting those _things_," she said dismissively, gesturing at the pacing creature.

"If you have a better idea, I'm all ears!" Emma threw up her hands in exasperation, and Regina scowled.

"Just concentrate on the spell and let me think!" she snapped irritably. "I'm not owing Gold any more favours unless I absolutely have to."

* * *

Gold conjured a glass phial to his hands and began dropping in ingredients he had collected, his eyes never leaving the hellhound. The creature was pacing up and down the opposite bank of the river across from them, growling menacingly, and Lily's eyes were almost starting from her head with watching it.

"Don't worry," he said calmly. "It won't get across."

As if it had heard him, the hellhound raised its muzzle and let out a howl of rage. Lily gulped.

"How long until the spell is done?" she asked, and he shrugged, frowning.

"I have everything I need," he said slowly. "Except a hair from its body."

Lily almost choked. "You must be joking!"

His mouth twitched. "I would never joke about something so serious. We need to get behind it and pull out a hair. The hounds all came from the same fire so it should banish them all, but the spell won't work without hair from one of them." He eyed her curiously. "Do you think you could distract it while I sneak across?"

"_Me_?" she squeaked, folding her arms and shaking her head. "Uh-uh! _You_ distract it, _I'll_ get the damn hair!"

"It's dangerous!" he said sharply, and she huffed at him, flicking her black hair out of her eyes.

"Look, Gold, I know these woods, I also know that I'm quiet, which, no offence, you're not. Most importantly, I know which end of that thing I'd rather be. _You_ distract it, and I'll pull a _handful_ of hair out of its ass if that's what we need."

He chuckled, eyes glinting with amusement. "Very well, in that case I suggest you circle around and approach it downwind."

She gave him a look as though he had just told her that she needed to keep breathing to stay alive, which he supposed he deserved.

"Just don't die," she said witheringly, and snuck silently away into the forest. The hellhound watched her go, but returned its attention to Gold once she was out of sight. He wondered whether it was only aimed at outlanders, whether it could smell that he was not of this world. He put the phial on the ground next to a tree and faced the creature across the river. It growled, its stench making his nostrils sting, and fire once again rippled below its skin, its flaming eyes boring into him.

"Something of a weakness, this inability to cross running water," he commented mildly, even though he was sure it could not understand him. "A design flaw, one might say."

The hellhound snarled at him, flames dripping from its jaws, the muscles of its chest and shoulders rippling as it suppressed the urge to spring at him. It began pacing again, up and down the bank, as though searching for a way across. He would need to keep it in one position if Lily was going to able to sneak up from behind, and the thought made him sigh. It obviously meant crossing the river. He kept a sharp eye out for Lily, and far down the river bank, he finally caught a glimpse of her. Grimacing to himself, he walked towards the stepping-stones that had allowed them to cross, and stepped out. The hellhound immediately tensed, stopping its pacing, its head turned towards him. He took another step towards the opposite side of the river, and the creature turned its body around, its limbs moving with a strange fluid motion, as though they were not attached in the same way as normal bones. He took another step, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lily ghosted towards the hellhound on small, silent feet. One more step…

Lily approached the creature silently, heart hammering in her chest. She kept close to the river bank, so that if it turned, she could jump in as a last resort. She could see Gold ahead of her, stepping onto the bank of the river with a surprisingly calm expression on his face. The hellhound snarled its rage and crouched down, readying itself to spring. Quickly, she snuck forward and grasped at the rotting stump of its tail just as its muscles were bunching in readiness. The hair was dark and faintly oily, with a rancid smell coming from it. It threatened to slip from her fingers, and she tightened her grip and gave a firm tug. The creature reacted more quickly than she had believed possible, leaping up into the air and twisting so that it turned to face her with a howl of anger. She could see Gold's eyes widen in horror as it prepared to spring.

"No!" yelled Gold, waving his hand. Just as the hellhound lunged to bite out her throat, she felt herself whisked to the opposite bank of the river, landing in the leaves with a thump that threatened to knock the breath from her. In an instant he was there, helping her to her feet and looking her over with a concerned expression. She was shaking, but she proudly held up the few small hairs she had plucked.

"See?" she said. "Easy, wasn't it?"

* * *

Alex made it back to the cabin and threw himself inside before hurriedly locking the door behind him. He sank into a crouch, breathing hard, willing himself not to throw up. He had heard Spencer's men crashing through the forest, and had thrown himself behind a tree as he waited for them to go by. He had counted slowly to one hundred before moving, and had run as fast as he could back to the cabin, eyes and ears straining for the sights and sounds of any pursuit. His heart had threatened to climb into his mouth when he heard a wolf howling somewhere off to his left, and he had almost wept with relief when he saw the cabin make its appearance through the sheets of fine rain. Now inside, he was dirty, cold and wet, and he tugged off his coat wearily, peeling off his sweater. The fire was still burning cheerfully, but he threw another log on it anyway, and hung up his wet things to dry. A knock at the door made him start, heart hammering in his chest, but he straightened up when he heard Ruby's voice. He opened the door and she rushed in, raindrops glistening on her shoulders as she span to face him.

"Ruby?" he said uncertainly. She was breathing hard, her eyes bright, her lips parted, gazing at him with a smouldering intensity. Her hair was wet, falling around her pale face in dark, unruly curls. Her eyes were wide, and darker than usual, a strange glow coming from them. In short she was beautiful, incandescent, and a little bit terrifying. He wondered why it had taken her so long to get there, and why she was staring at him as though she wanted to eat him. _That_ thought made him squirm inside with pleasure. Then her hands were on his shoulders, her mouth was against his, and he lost all rational thought.

* * *

Hook practically flung himself down the hill, not daring to look over his shoulder. He was aware that he had gotten a few minutes' head start on the hellhound, but he could hear its blood-drenched howl as it set off in pursuit. The trees in this part of the jungle were not suited to climbing, being more like spindly bushes and saplings, so he ran, and hoped, and tried to remember where the river was on this part of the island. At last, ahead of him, he heard the sound of running water, and almost sobbed with relief. He chanced a look back, and could see the creature gaining on him.

"You won't be eating me tonight, you bastard!" he muttered under his breath, and opened up his stride once more, until he was sprinting full-out. He knew he could not keep it up for long, but the river had to be close. He loped over a ridge, lungs burning, and saw the river within reach. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he saw a second hellhound near the bank, and tried to stop his feet from moving while his body still wanted to go forwards. In his desperation he tripped, rolling down the ridge towards the river and landing with a painful thump on his face. The second hellhound had not been watching him, and seemed surprised to see him, momentarily stopping its pacing to stare at him. Its mate crested the ridge as Hook pushed himself to his knees, and he knew he was going to die. His eyes flicked desperately to the river, wondering if he could make it, whereupon he saw Gold, standing in the river with that smirk on his face that Hook had always hated, holding a glass jar of some strange, bright blue liquid. Obviously this would be the spell to banish the creatures, but Hook highly doubted it would be used before he became their next meal. He comforted himself that revenge was not as sweet as one thought, and that the Dark One would take little pleasure from it. Hook curled his lip, kneeling up, and spread his arms in mock surrender. Gold shrugged, and as the hellhounds both leapt towards the pirate, he threw the phial of potion to the ground, smashing it open. The hellhounds suddenly seemed to break apart with howls of rage, their dark and flaming essence being pulled towards the flowing waters of the river. Gold watched as the waters hissed and boiled, before returning to their usual calm flow, all trace of the creatures disappearing. Hook fell onto his hands and then rolled onto his back, his chest heaving with exertion and relief. He was not surprised when Gold crossed the river and stood over him, hands folded in front of him, black leather shining in the moonlight.

"I thought you were going to let me die," said Hook honestly, and Gold smiled thinly.

"Tempting," he admitted. "But I rather like the idea of you owing me. I believe that's the second time I've saved your life on this miserable scrap of rock." He showed his teeth, the gold gleaming in the pale light. "I'm sure we'll find some way for you to pay me back."

* * *

Emma thought she had never been so tired. She was sagging with weariness; she had been up all day and now most of the night, and to add to that she was helping to channel forces she had barely touched a week ago. She looked to the side; Regina was standing as straight as ever, but there were beads of sweat on her brow and a tightness around her eyes which showed her strain. The hellhound stood just on the other side of the circle of flowing water, its fiery eyes calculating. Emma felt a tendril of magic sneak out from Regina, and a jet of water shot out of the flow and soaked the creature's muzzle. It leapt back with a howl of rage, steam rising from its skin, the hissing of water against fire. Regina smirked.

"I wonder what would happen if we dumped all this water on it," commented Emma, and Regina frowned thoughtfully. Suddenly Emma felt a surge of magic, and her eyes widened as she realised what Regina was about to do.

"No!" she yelled, as the flowing water suddenly surged towards the hellhound, drenching it. Emma covered her ears against the blood-curdling howls, trying to see beyond the cloud of steam that had erupted.

"Let's get out of here," said Regina curtly, as the mist cleared and the body of the hellhound was revealed. It was not moving.

"Is it dead?" asked Emma, unconvinced, and the other woman shrugged.

"Who cares? It won't be in any state to follow us like that. Let's go."

Emma turned to follow her down the hill, glancing back over her shoulder nervously. A low growl made her stomach clench, and she quickened her pace.

"You used up our one weapon on a stupid experiment!" she snapped, as the growl behind them became a snarl. Regina set her jaw, quickening her pace.

"I couldn't keep that up much longer, and neither could you!" she returned hotly. "We need to rest before we burn ourselves out!"

"Great choice of words, Regina!"

"I don't see _you_ coming up with any solutions!"

Looking back over her shoulder, Emma could see that the hellhound was almost back to its feet, the fires of the underworld once more glowing in its eyes and mouth.

"We have to get moving," she said desperately. "It's going to be coming after us." She stumbled after Regina, her legs threatening to give out at any second, and her heart clenched with fear as a howl ripped through the air. The two women started to run again, terror lending speed to their feet, but their tiredness made them clumsy, and when Regina caught her foot in a root, Emma went down with her. She quickly rolled onto her back, scrambling backwards desperately, as she watched the hellhound lope down the hill towards them. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, her heart breaking as she realised that Henry would never know she had come for him, that she had tried her hardest to save him. She felt Regina grasp her hand, and squeezed in return, waiting for the impact of the huge body, to feel its claws and teeth in her flesh. It didn't come. Tentatively, she opened one eye, and saw the creature writhing on the ground before them. It howled in rage as its body appeared to break apart and sink into the damp earth, steam hissing up from the ground. Emma fell back, her lungs burning, her heart pounding, rubbing relieved hands over her face.

"See?" said Regina crisply. "I knew what I was doing."

* * *

Alex lay beneath the blankets of the cabin's bed, the crackling fire sending red and orange shapes dancing across the wooden walls. If he had been able to look into a mirror at that point, he was sure his eyebrows would have been somewhere up in his hairline. Ruby stirred briefly beside him, then nuzzled closer with a soft grumble, dozing with her arm slung across his waist. He rubbed at his neck, wincing as he felt broken skin and a little crusted blood. She was certainly passionate. He was sure there were other bruises on his neck and chest where she had bitten him less hard, and his back was stinging, no doubt covered in scratches. He turned his head and looked down at her fondly, the firelight playing off her arm and cheekbones, long thick lashes lying against her smooth cheeks. She had been like a wild thing when he opened the door to her, not letting him speak, tearing off their clothes before he had a chance to think. He stroked a lock of hair behind her ear gently, then jumped as the door to the cabin banged open and Belle, Ruby's grandmother _(oh crap) _and a woman Alex had never met, but who was dressed as a nun _(double crap)_ walked through. Ruby woke and sat up with a squeal, dragging the covers up under her chin, her eyes wider than ever. He pushed himself up into a sitting position hastily, grabbing his glasses and shoving them on. Clear vision didn't make the scene before him any less worrying. Granny bristled visibly, raising the loaded crossbow she was carrying. Alex's jaw dropped as he scrabbled backwards on the heels of his hands, seemingly trying to get out through the wall.

"Get the hell away from my Ruby!" said Granny, the words hissing out from between her teeth, and Ruby scowled.

"Granny, is this really necessary?" she demanded, blushing. "I'm a grown woman, you didn't need to bring a _nun_. No offence, Blue," she added hastily. Mother Superior nodded in acceptance, a sorrowful look on her face.

"Look, let me explain…" began Alex, holding up his hands. Granny lowered the crossbow so that it was pointing at his groin, and his mouth snapped shut.

"He's one of _them_, Ruby!" she spat, eyes flashing, and, at Ruby's confused expression. "He was working with Greg Mendell and that woman! He's here to destroy us!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" snapped Ruby, trying for an authority she was unable to find when covered in nothing but a sheet.

"It's true, Ruby," said Belle sadly, biting her lip. "Mendell gave David a list of names of the people they'd been working with. He was one. Tech support, they said." She watched Alex as she spoke, and noticed his expression change as he realised he'd been caught. Ruby had turned to him, and noticed at the same time. Her mouth fell open, and the expression of hurt in her eyes made Belle's heart go out to her. She turned back to the others, her expression calm.

"Would you give me a few minutes to get dressed, please?" she said icily.

"I'm not leaving you alone with him!" said Granny fiercely, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

"Oh, for pity's sake, do you really think I can't take care of myself?" she snapped. "I'm not about to walk around naked in front of you three, so you may as well go!"

Belle was the first to leave, walking out onto the porch. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and resin from the cut logs, and the fresh scent of rain and wet earth. She loved the cabin; it was somewhere she and Gold didn't visit often, but each time they did was special. She made a mental note to change the sheets before he got back.

"Ruby'll take this hard," said Granny, her voice gruff, but worry showing through. "She's never had much luck with men. First Peter – died, then there were all the losers she hooked up with under the curse, then Billy…" She left the rest unsaid.

"What are we going to do?" asked Belle, and the old woman heaved a sigh.

"Part of me wants to cut him up into little pieces and leave him for the birds, but I don't know…he doesn't seem the same as those other two."

Belle nodded thoughtfully. "Why don't we lock him in the sheriff's station? It should keep him safe as well as us."

"I can cast a protection spell that will keep Spencer and his mob away," put in Mother Superior. "That buys us time, at least."

"Time for what?" asked Granny sceptically. Belle took a deep breath, and turned to them.

"To find out what he knows," she said decidedly.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter's going to get pretty dark again. Let me know what you thought of this one xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: No, still don't own Once Upon a Time. If I did, I'd be writing episodes, not writing fanfiction and working two jobs.**

**Coming up: Gold goes off on his own for a bit (uh-oh!), Emma catches Regina doing something she shouldn't, and Belle gets some surprising information from the imprisoned Alex.**

* * *

Emma pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at the patch of ground where the hellhound had disappeared.

"D'you think it can come back?" she asked, and Regina shook her head.

"It was summoned," she said. "My guess is by Pan. I suppose he'll try something else next." She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "We should get some rest while we can. There's not telling which direction the others are in, and we don't have the strength to go after them now."

Emma agreed, and got to her feet wearily.

"Can you summon our things?" she asked, and Regina frowned, gesturing with her hands. Their packs, including food and blankets, appeared next to them, but the effort seemed to make Regina wilt. She spread out her blankets and lay down, falling asleep almost immediately. Emma prepared her own bed, but lay awake for a while, looking up at the stars through the canopy of the forest._ We're coming, Henry,_ she thought as she drifted off. _Hang in there, kid_.

* * *

Henry woke with a start as Kerby marched into their small camp, dousing the fire and scrubbing at the ashes with her feet.

"We have to go," she said abruptly, as he sat up.

"But it's night," he ventured, and she nodded grimly, feeling at a braided leather cord around her neck as if to check that it was still there.

"It's safe enough," she said, packing away their few things in a satchel.

"What's the hurry all of a sudden?" he asked nervously, uncomfortable with the way she wasn't really looking at him. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Don't worry, you'll be safe with me," she said, and held out a hand to pull him up. "The camp isn't far, and maybe your family is already there."

Unsure, but attempting to hide his fears, Henry followed her out of the campsite and up the hill to the north. They walked for half an hour before they reached the crest of the hill, by which time Henry was breathing heavily.

"It's just over this ridge," said Kerby, turning to him. He wondered why she looked so sad. "I'm sorry, Henry."

"What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed. "You brought me to my family, didn't you?"

"She brought you to me," came an unfamiliar voice, and Henry started as a boy appeared from behind a tree, dressed in green and brown. He looked to be in his late teens, but there was something behind his eyes that Henry didn't like, a darkness. He took a step back.

"Hello, Henry," said the boy, with a smile that was somehow cold. "I'm Peter Pan. Welcome to Neverland. I think you'll be very happy here."

"Where – where's my family?" asked Henry anxiously, and Pan smiled.

"They're not here just yet," he admitted. "But I have a feeling they'll be with us very soon. Come. Let's get you something hot to eat and drink."

Still not trusting him, but unsure as to what his next move should be, Henry started to walk down the ridge where Pan pointed, and Kerby followed the two of them down. It was a short walk to the Lost Boys' camp, and Henry was amazed at the wooden shelters built into the trees and surrounding the large clearing. At one end was a series of small caves scooped out of the hillside, with lattice-work doors of branches and rope, like cages. Henry wondered curiously what could be in them. Several of the Lost Boys had gathered around the three of them, and Pan was about to make introductions when Kerby turned to him.

"I brought him to you," she said, and there was a note of pleading in her voice. "I did what you asked. _Please_." Now she was really begging. "Please let me go."

Pan stroked his chin, as though he were seriously considering her request.

"You did bring him to me," he admitted, and hope shone in her eyes. He gave a humourless laugh, then, and she looked crushed. "In _your own time_, I might add. I know for a fact that you've been hiding him from me the past few days. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" His eyes were flashing with anger now, and she backed away. "Did you think I would let you get away with that?" He pursued her, making her stumble and almost fall, before he stopped abruptly.

"Please," she begged again. "He just wants to get back to his family. I could understand that, I could…" She cut off as he raised a hand to silence her.

"You've had your chance," he said curtly. "I don't react well to betrayal." Before she could react, he snatched at the cord around her neck. Henry cried out, but Pan tugged the cord out from beneath her tunic to reveal a tiny bottle hanging from it. With another sharp tug he snapped the cord, before pushing Kerby backwards into a waiting cave. Several of the Lost Boys hurried to lift one of the lattice-work doors into place across the entrance, binding it shut with rope. Pan strode forward slowly, looking down his nose at her as she wept, hands clinging to the bars.

"See how you do with no magic," he said venomously, dangling the bottle on its cord just out of her reach.

* * *

"I trust you have no objections to me bedding down here for the night?" asked Hook, as he crossed over the river behind Gold. The other man shrugged.

"None at all. Do you have any idea where the others are?"

Hook pulled a face. "I could probably make it back to the Prince and his lovely wife, but I have no idea where Emma went."

"Then I suggest we let them find us," said Gold, smiling to himself as he had an inkling of what he could expect from that night. It would be a long one, but he'd never been one for sleeping much. "Let's get a fire going."

He and Hook collected firewood, while Lily busied herself at the river's edge, sticking her arm into the calm waters protected by overhanging banks, out of the fast-flowing stream. She tickled three trout up onto the bank with ease, before moving further upstream to find two more. Hook watched interestedly, but couldn't learn the trick, the fish darting away from his questing fingers whenever he tried.

"That should do it," announced Gold, looking towards the top of the ridge across from them. Sure enough, two figures were stumbling along, hand in hand.

"Thank goodness!" Mary Margaret cried, enveloping Lily in a hug.

"Or me," said Gold dryly, stepping backwards before she could hug him, too.

David shook his hand, which was a surprise, then Hook's (an even bigger surprise), and ruffled Lily's hair, to her obvious disgust.

"Where's Emma?" he asked, and was answered with shrugs.

"She'll be fine, David," said Mary Margaret, sounding as though she had said this many times before. "She and Regina will be as tired as we are. We can meet up again in the morning."

Hook started cleaning the fish for their meal, as the two newcomers sat down with soft groans of relief. Mary Margaret started rubbing the muscles of her legs wearily.

"It's been a while since I got that much exercise," she admitted. "I think I was probably much fitter as a bandit than as a schoolteacher."

"Are we safe here?" asked David, and Gold nodded, leaning back against a tree.

"I've cast wards around the clearing," he said. "Anything that tries to get past them will alert us. You can relax."

"What about the fire?" asked Hook, stretching luxuriously, his leather trousers creaking. "No more devil-dogs?"

Gold frowned, pondering. "A summoning spell," he said. "Pan knows better than to open the door to the underworld twice in one night. It can have unforeseen consequences. You never know what else might step through. Corpse-dwellers, flesh-eating demons, soul-suckers…"

"How comforting, and just before we go to sleep," said Hook cheerfully, spitting the fish on peeled twigs to hang above the flames. "I'm surprised they call you the Dark One, really. You're always such a ray of sunshine."

Gold scowled as Lily stifled a giggle.

* * *

Having eaten their fill, the five comrades settled down for what remained of the night. Gold allowed himself a couple of hours of sleep, before waking himself as dawn was approaching. He listened to the even breathing from Mary Margaret and Lily, and the soft snores from David and Hook, and knew they would not wake for some time. He eased himself to his feet, moving as quietly as he could, and snuck away from the fire, skirting the trees to the east and striding towards a small hill with a stone outcrop jutting across the river. He crested the hill and made his way down into a hollow, whereupon he folded his hands in front of his body and waited. After five minutes or so, there were rustles in the undergrowth, and a group of teenage boys approached, weapons at the ready, pointing at his chest.

"Ah, just as I suspected," said Gold softly, a small smile twisting his mouth as he swept his hand out in an extravagant gesture. "The cannon fodder."

The Lost Boys shuffled their feet, widening their stance and gripping their weapons.

"We do not fear you, Dark One," said one of them tonelessly, and Gold sniffed.

"Then you're even stupider than I gave you credit for," he said dismissively. "Has your illustrious leader explained what's likely to happen to you in this little encounter?"

A second, taller boy stepped forward, dark hair falling over a thin, dirty face with the same empty eyes all the Lost had. Gold wondered what it was that Pan had done to them. The boy raised his spear and smiled slightly.

"If you make a move against us, he will kill the boy," he intoned.

"No, he won't," said Gold scornfully. "He hasn't plotted for hundreds of years, manipulated hundreds of people and brought Henry all the way here to kill him. Believe me, I know a little about playing the long game." He bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin. "Try again."

"You'll have to kill each and every one of us to get to him," warned the boy, and Gold's smile widened.

"Well, that's just a bonus."

The Lost Boy straightened, grip tightening on his weapon. "I think you will die a thousand deaths before Pan lets you take his prize," he said. "What do you think?" He moved quicker than Gold had thought possible, lunging with his spear at Gold's chest, but Gold moved his hand slightly and the spear crumbled into dust before it had even pierced the leather of his coat. The boy looked shaken. The others appeared unmoved. Gold smiled, his eyes gleaming darkly.

"What do _I _think?" he asked, taking a slow step forward. "I think you've got guts." He leant towards the boy with a leer. "Why don't I rip you open and take a look at them?"

The boy took a step backwards, but his comrades crowded around behind him, shoulder to shoulder. Gold glanced from one empty face to another. He smiled thinly. Six. So be it.

* * *

Alex stumbled into the sheriff's station with his hands on his head, nervously eyeing Granny's crossbow as he did so. Belle had telephoned Leroy to let him know what was going on, and the acting sheriff was standing by the desk with the keys to the cells in his hand, glaring.

"Get in there," he growled, jerking his head at one of the cells. "And no funny business. I've got my eye on you, buddy."

Alex walked meekly into the cell and sat quietly on the cot while Leroy locked the door. Belle, Ruby, Granny and Mother Superior turned to one another.

"I can't do this now," said Ruby tiredly, and Belle squeezed her arm comfortingly. Ruby looked as though she was about to cry. "I need a decent night's sleep before I even consider thinking about what I've done."

"It wasn't your fault!" insisted Belle, and Ruby gave a humourless laugh.

"No, perhaps not," she admitted. "But I should have known. Every single relationship I have is ruined. Every time I think I've met a decent guy I either screw it up myself or someone does it for me. I can't take any more right now." She brushed off Belle's arm and walked dejectedly from the room, Granny bustling after her like a mother hen. Belle sighed and looked at Mother Superior.

"I'll sit with him," she said. "I think he'll talk to me, and there are some things I want to explain to him."

The fairy nodded. "Call if you need us," was all she said, before leaving Belle alone with Alex and a glowering Leroy.

"Leroy, could you please fetch us some coffees and doughnuts from Granny's?" she asked, smiling tiredly at him. "I think it's gonna be a long night."

"You'll be okay alone with him?" asked Leroy, glaring at the prisoner as though he could somehow break through the bars of the cell. Belle nodded, and he grunted something and went out. Belle sat down on the bench next to the cell. Alex was looking at his hands, plucking nervously at the skin of his knuckles. He eventually met her eyes, and flinched at her expression.

"Why did you do it?" she asked softly, and he swallowed hard.

"I didn't mean to hurt Ruby," he said hastily. "I care about her, I really do, it's just…they told me to get information or I'd lose my job. And I wanted to see magic, see if it was real – I saw the footage Mendell shot but it just seemed impossible that such things could be genuine. I wanted to see for myself. All I was supposed to be doing was reconnaissance, and then that guy wanted to drive me out, or kill me, whatever, and I got scared. When Ruby turned up – she was kind of wild – and, like I said, I care about her." He stood up, clutching at the bars and gazing at her pleadingly. "Please, Belle, I don't even understand what's going on here! I can't understand, if there _is_ magic, why it's here, and not everywhere else."

"You hate magic," she said slowly, watching his expression, and his eyes widened, a look of puzzlement on his face.

"No," he said. "I think it's fascinating. I mean, all my colleagues hated it. I was _supposed_ to hate it. The whole reason for the Home Office's existence was to wipe it out, but I think that if there's something in the world that can do these amazing things, it shouldn't be destroyed. It should be studied. Imagine what we could do with it, if it was all across the earth."

Belle eyed him curiously. "You work there for the knowledge, don't you? It's not an idealism thing."

He nodded eagerly. "I've been researching stuff like this for years, so when they took me on, I thought I'd be finding out about all kinds of secret stuff that the Government wants to hide. Now I'm here…I'm not entirely sure where 'here' is anymore. Everyone's – weird – about stuff in this town."

Belle pondered her next move, weighing up her conflicting feelings. On the one hand, she knew it was dangerous to let him know too much, that he was the enemy. On the other, she relied on her sense about people, and that was telling her that he could be useful. She made her decision.

"You'd better make yourself comfortable," she said. "I'm going to tell you how Storybrooke came to be here."

* * *

Henry finished eating the meat he had been given (he thought it was possibly squirrel, but it was tasty enough) and licked the juice from his fingers. After introducing him to several of the Lost Boys, Pan had disappeared, and Henry had been encouraged to eat some food and find himself a bed in amongst the huts and treehouses that made up the camp. He had elected to sleep in a hut near the hillside, where it was both sheltered and close to the little caves, one of which Kerby had been trapped in. Having been largely left to his own devices, Henry got to his feet and sneaked over to her. He saw with surprise that she had her back to the entrance and was kneeling up, her tunic in a pile beside her on the floor. He could hear the splashing of water and assumed she was washing. _At least they gave her water for that,_ he thought. He eyed her skin curiously. There were two long, raised welts on her back, where her shoulder blades were, and his brow crinkled in confusion.

"What happened to you?" he asked, and she jumped in fright, covering herself before turning her face to see him.

"Hi Henry," she said despondently.

"What's wrong with your back?" he asked persistently. "It looks – like fresh scars."

She looked devastated, and made to turn away. A flash of inspiration came to him.

"You had _wings_!" he said, in a loud, carrying whisper, and a spasm of pain in her face convinced him he was right. "You're a fairy! That's what Pan took from you, you had fairy dust in that bottle around your neck!"

She sighed, and pulled her tunic back over her head, standing up and turning to face him properly.

"He's taken _everything_ from me!" she said bitterly. "When I met him I thought he was an ordinary boy. I thought he was hurt, but he was pretending. When I went to help him he showed me what he really was." She shuddered at the memory, folding her arms across her chest as though she was trying to keep away the cold. "He tore off my wings and took my wand before I could react. He told me that if I served him for a year and a day, he'd give them back. That was months ago." She hung her head. "I don't think he has any intention of letting me go, not now."

"But you have magic," protested Henry, clinging to the wooden bars of her cage, and she barked a rueful laugh.

"I had some fairy dust," she corrected him. "I could do small spells, like the one that hid you from him. I can channel magic through objects, like a talisman he gave me. I can't do any of the things I used to do standing on my head. And now he's taken my fairy dust, I'm as useless as any human."

Henry leant in close to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. "What if I get back your fairy dust. Could you get out of the cage?"

She pulled a face. "Henry, if you get that fairy dust, you should save yourself. There's nothing left for me. My wings…it was a fool's hope, nothing more. I know he can't give them back to me." She hung her head with a sigh, and he grasped her hand through the bars.

"Maybe not," he said urgently. "But my moms are both coming here, and they have magic. I bet they can help you."

"You have such faith in this family of yours," she said cynically, her eyes weary. "What makes you think they're even on the island? Pan was probably lying."

Henry grinned. "Because we always find each other," he said confidently. "I need you to trust me. I need you to believe in me."

"Why?" she asked tiredly, and he squeezed her hand.

"Because I believe in you, Kerby," he said sincerely. He dropped her hand, turning to go.

"Tinkerbell," she said loudly, and he span on his heel to face her. She was still looking tired and desperate, but fresh hope was beginning to shine in her eyes. "My name's Tinkerbell."

Henry grinned. "Yeah, I worked that one out. I just wanted _you_ to remember."

* * *

"So Ruby is Little Red Riding Hood." Alex shook his head, taking a swig from his coffee cup. "Wow! I have to say she's way hotter than in the books I read as a kid."

Belle rolled her eyes, and he gave her an apologetic look.

"And the people that left," he continued, gesturing with what was left of his doughnut. "Who are they? Back in your world, I mean?"

"David Nolan is Prince Charming, Mary Margaret Blanchard is Snow White, and Emma Swan is their daughter." She grinned to herself as his mouth fell open and stayed there. "I know it's a lot to take in…"

He shrugged. "It's cool. No more outlandish than some of the theories I've read on crop circles and alien visitations." He took another drink. "Hey, Ruby said your boyfriend went."

"Yes." She felt a physical pain in her chest at the reminder. "Mr Gold."

"You call your boyfriend Mr Gold?" he asked, and she giggled.

"No, I call him Rumple," she said affectionately. "He's Rumplestiltskin." She noted his eyes widen. "He's the Dark One. I don't suppose that means anything to you, but back in our world, and here in Storybrooke, he's the most feared and powerful sorcerer in the land."

"And he's your – your…" He seemed unable to say it, but she nodded.

"He's my true love," she said simply.

"You're in love with the Dark One," he said slowly. "Is he – like – some sort of demon?"

"No!" she snapped, making him start. "He's a man. Immortal, powerful, and bloody irritating at times, but a man, nonetheless." She frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, I said 'bloody irritating' didn't I? I guess I didn't need to add the man part."

"No offence," said Alex hastily. "But you don't seem the type to go for the dark."

Belle smiled. "I know the man he really is. I know there's good in him. I have to believe that he won't give in to darkness."

Alex sat back, his mind reeling, and she watched him take in her words, digest them, and attempt to make sense of them. It was a lot for anyone to handle; she counted her blessings that he was open-minded. At last he looked up, and there was a tic beside his eye. He swallowed hard, as though something had just occurred to him.

"I don't understand why you've told me all this," he said nervously, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Not if you're planning on leaving me alive, anyway."

Belle sighed. "I have no intention of killing you, but I can't speak for everyone," she said gently. "However, if you make yourself useful, they're far less likely to call for your head."

He sat forward, interested. "What do you want from me?"

Belle watched him closely. "I need a way to cross over into Neverland," she said. "Do you have any idea how I might do that, and get back here with the others?"

"No," he said firmly, and she sighed, letting her head droop. She heard him grip the bars of his cell more tightly, his breathing quickening, and looked up. His eyes were gleaming with excitement and the light of a new challenge. "But I think I can find out."

* * *

Gold straightened, blood slick on his hands, coating his jacket and trousers. There were drops of it on his face, the sharp, metallic tang invading his nostrils, reminding him of days past, of who he used to be before the centuries had mellowed him, lessening the bloodlust, slaking his thirst for torture and death. The blood was beginning to dry, and he rubbed his hands together slowly, his fingers sticky with it, as he surveyed the dead and dying in front of him. None of them had told him anything willingly, so he had had to pull the information out of them, quite literally. He wondered whether some sort of magic had been used on them to make them brainless slaves. They hadn't had their hearts ripped out by anyone, he had already experimented with a couple of them to make sure. Holding the heart of one of them, he had obtained the information he needed before crushing it, and the two remaining had thrown themselves at him, weapons raised, clearly intent on a painful and messy death. The last had cursed fluently for a full five minutes before Gold had gotten bored and pulled out his tongue, followed by his kneecaps. He decided to let that one live, in case Pan came to find his henchmen, and moved his hands in a figure-eight pattern, cleansing himself of the blood. He lifted his hands up and looked them over with a satisfied smile. Back in the day, it had taken him a while to come up with a spell that even did under one's fingernails. Once more immaculate, and with the information he had wanted, he walked jauntily back to the camp.

* * *

Regina woke with a start, squinting in the cool dawn light filtering through the canopy. The forest was a pleasant, relaxing green, the whine of insects, calls of birds and rustlings of small creatures the only sounds to disturb the peace. She sat up, noting that Emma was still sleeping beside her, her arm thrown up above her head. Regina shivered; the early morning was cool, they had gone to sleep without eating the previous night and she was still tired. Her body needed sustenance and rest, neither of which was likely to come soon. She got to her feet and decided to fetch some water for a hot drink; she recalled Hook brewing a tasty tea from the leaves of one of the spindly bushes that ringed their tiny camp. She used a spell to find water, and it pointed off to her left, so she walked wearily in that direction. The small spell had further sapped her reserves of energy; she would need some serious rest before she could take on Pan and his cronies. She also felt dirty, and resolved to use magic to change her clothes as soon as she was sufficiently recovered. Hand held out in front of her with a small purple arrow balanced on her palm like a compass, she was concentrating on the path she was taking through the trees. She was therefore unprepared for stepping into a clearing with what looked like the aftermath of a battle; half a dozen bodies lay sprawled across the forest floor, covered in blood, some with their intestines trailing behind them. Regina curled her lip as she looked at the remains of the Lost Boys. Was this what Pan did to his followers? Perhaps they had disobeyed him, or tried to run away. Her sharp eyes picked out one that was still moving, his legs bent at unnatural angles. Anger lent her strength, and she flicked her hand, whisking him up into the air to dangle in front of her. His head lolled back, blood running from the corners of his mouth.

"I've so been looking forward to speaking with one of Pan's minions," she purred. Her eyes sparked with a dark light, her full lips curving upwards with a smile. "Tell me where my son is, and I can heal you. I can take this pain away. Wouldn't that be nice?"

The boy moaned slightly, and she felt her anger rising. They were _not _going to get away with this! They were _not_ going to keep her from Henry. "I suggest you pull yourself together, dear," she said, in clipped tones, and looked askance at the disembowelled remains of his comrades. "And think yourself lucky you don't have to do it literally. Tell me where my son is, and I can make it all better."

The boy tipped his head forward, coughing, and Regina smiled in anticipation of his answer. His eyes were blank and dead, but he managed a slow smile, his teeth red with blood.

"He'll already be dead," he whispered, and Regina's eyes bulged in fear and anger. She shook him hard, blood flying from his mouth and nose. "Where. Is. My. _Son_?" she yelled, her eyes flashing with rage. "Did you think you could keep him from me? Did you think I wouldn't cross _worlds_ to get him back?" The boy went limp in her arms, gasping his last, and she dropped him in disgust, casting her eyes about for another. She spotted one trying to hide beneath the bodies of his friends, and dragged him out by his heels, rage giving her the strength to physically lift him and pull him to his feet. He didn't seem to be able to stand, and she had to hold him up.

"It looks as though I'll have to resort to the old-fashioned ways of doing things," she said with a smirk, and shoved her hand into his chest, making him scream wordlessly as she clenched her fingers around his heart and ripped it out. She dropped him and he collapsed, but she still held the heart in her hands, glowing fiercely.

"Now," she said sternly, holding up her prize to his terrified face. "Where is my son?"

The boy gabbled at her, and she frowned in surprise, then stepped back from him, lip curling. His tongue was gone. _Useless!_

"What the _hell?_" Regina turned to see Emma staring at the scene of carnage with a look of horror on her face.

"I didn't do this!" said Regina immediately, and Emma's lip curled in revulsion.

"Regina, I just saw you drop one of these boys in a bleeding mess and rip out the heart of another!" she shouted. "You don't seriously think I'll believe you, do you?"

"I don't give a damn whether you believe me or not," said Regina coldly, lifting her chin. "I tried to get the information we needed from his kidnappers."

Emma threw up her hands. "I can't believe this! What the hell is _wrong _with you?"

Regina's eyes flashed dark fire. "Oh, so _I'm_ the only one of us that's ever killed anyone, is that what you're going with? May I remind you that your _mother_, the supposedly sweet and innocent _Snow White_, manipulated me into killing my own?"

"That was different…" began Emma, and Regina cut her off with a brittle laugh.

"Of course!" she sneered. "It always is when it's you. When it's something _you're_ fighting for you're always able to justify it to yourself! How the hell do you think Gold and I have survived all this time?"

"Your mother's death is the only one Mary Margaret is responsible for, and she feels _terrible_ about it!" snapped Emma, and Regina's laugh became full-throated.

"Oh my God, how naïve _are_ you?" she snarled. "There was a _war_! She led an army against _me_, the rightful queen. How many do you think perished in that war? And as for your loser of a father (who, FYI, was a goddamn _shepherd_, not a prince), he also led troops against _his _adoptive father, again, the rightful ruler!" Her lips curved in a smile of derision. "You're such a bunch of hypocrites! In fact, you're worse than me, because you don't have the guts to do the deed yourselves. You just manipulate others into killing for you, or send people to their deaths all the while telling yourselves it's _for the greater good_."

"I haven't killed anyone!" snapped Emma, and Regina raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, you certainly didn't step in when Gold sent Tamara mad, now did you? How exactly do you think that will end?" She held up her hands, covered with blood from the dying boy she had picked up, the captured heart glowing red. "Believe me, Miss Swan, I'm not the only one with blood on my hands, here. Yours is just invisible to the naked eye."

"They're boys, Regina! _Boys!_" said Emma desperately. "Some are no older than Henry! How could you?"

"They're all far older than you and I, dear," she said, a slight smirk on her face. "Pan has the face of a boy, but we know he's a demon. His followers are no different. Look." She held up the heart, and Emma could see that the centre of it was dark, blackened, as though the light would not reach it. She shook her head.

"They've been frozen in time on this hell-hole of an island, but that doesn't make them legitimate targets for your psychotic behaviour!" snapped Emma. "Good God, Regina, what do you think Henry would say?"

"Well, unless we can get some information we can use _to find him_," said Regina, slowly and carefully, as though Emma was being deliberately slow. "We'll never know whether he'd believe me over you or not, will we?"

"Oh, no!" Emma shook her head. "This is _it_, Regina! This settles it, once and for all. When we find him and get him home you're not coming anywhere near him!"

Regina bristled with rage. "He's my son!" she thundered, her eyes flashing. Emma squared up to her, shaking with anger.

"He's _my _son!" she declared. "And if you think I'm going to allow you near him after what you did, you're out of your mind!"

Regina opened her mouth for an angry retort, then closed it, her gaze suddenly calculating. She passed the captured heart from hand to hand, the boy from whom she had ripped it watching it avidly. The sight made Emma feel sick.

"We'll see," Regina said calmly. "But recall, Miss Swan, that you signed your rights away to him when he was born. Legally, you have no claim on him. It'll be interesting to see what a court would think of you trying to take a boy from his mother. I'm guessing abduction would be the charge."

"The whole of Storybrooke knows…" began Emma furiously, but Regina lifted a stalling hand.

"Yes," she agreed, her voice suddenly lilting, almost taunting. "But let's say I decide to take him out of Storybrooke. Let's say, for example, that I decide to go to Boston? The curse doesn't affect me, I can come and go as I please."

"Me too," said Emma curtly, and Regina smiled unpleasantly.

"Indeed," she said slowly. "Thereby lending credence to my tale of my son's biological mother stalking the two of us."

Emma's mouth fell open. "You can't be serious! I'll tell them what you did!"

Regina's lip curled. "Tell them what, dear?" she said mockingly. "Tell them I'm some Evil Queen from a land of fairy tales who rips out the still-beating hearts of her victims?" She laughed hollowly, tossing the heart up and down in her hands. "Oh, I _truly_ hope that's the story you're going to run with!" She grasped the heart firmly, and Emma's eyes widened in horror as she crushed it to dust. The boy fell to the floor at her feet, staring sightless at the sky, and Emma blinked back tears, falling to her knees beside him. He was perhaps thirteen. Not much older than Henry. He could _be _Henry. She glared up at Regina, fury in her eyes as she got to her feet, but the other woman was standing with her hands on her hips, her mouth set in an arrogant sneer.

"Since we're no longer playing nice, Miss Swan," spat Regina. "I suggest we don't speak unless it's concerned with rescuing Henry." She made to storm past Emma, but whirled around at the last moment to face her, her beautiful face taut with rage and pain. "And if you _ever _try to take my son from me I will _kill _you!"

It was the way she had said it, not with any volume or heat, but utterly calm and cold, that made Emma believe every word. Regina stalked away, cleaning blood from her clothes with magic as she went, and Emma squared her jaw. She would find Henry, she would take him home, and she would keep her promise to Regina. She would never let her see him again. Not even if it meant her life.

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, I love writing Emma vs Regina scenes! **

**So, I had this idea weeks back that Tinkerbell was going to have lost her wings, largely because I thought of Pan as the sort to pull the wings off insects as a little boy, and it's only a short hop, skip and jump to pulling the wings off fairies. Then, of course, I saw 3x03, and thought "rats". However, as my Tinkerbell is very different and it's Pan that's taken her wings, not the Blue Fairy being an utter cow (again), I decided it was sufficiently different to still find a place in my AU.**

**Hope you enjoyed - I'll update as soon as I can!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Was hoping to get this chapter before this weekend, but life got in the way. Also, I've been severely beaten up by some Rumbelle plot bunnies giving me ideas for another fic, so I've had to spend some time fending off the devious little critters. I think we're getting towards the end of this one (mind you, I've thought that before), so there should only be a few more chapters.**

**Coming up: Belle creates some magic, Henry decides to steal something, and Alex makes some useful accessories. **

* * *

Gold made his way back to the camp, boots rustling softly through dead leaves. The sun was climbing over the hills to the east, its pale light filtering through the trees as he entered the clearing where they had bedded down for the night. His companions were still curled by the dying fire, sleeping peacefully. He thought for a moment, then shrugged and summoned the Mirror to him. He had considered not contacting Belle again, thinking it would be easier if he didn't see her, but his entire being ached for her. He tried to tell himself that his need to see her was not born of the violence he had just doled out to Pan's followers, but he knew that was a lie. He winced as he cut into his palm, scattering the blood on the Mirror to summon her, and wondered whether blood from the Lost would enable him to work the spell. Perhaps that price would not be high enough for the magic to work. Something to experiment with at a later date, perhaps.

"Rumple?" He smiled at the sound of her voice, the image in front of him somewhat jumbled; he assumed she had picked up a hand mirror. Sure enough, after a moment she was before him, beautiful as ever, although there were shadows beneath her eyes. He frowned at the scene behind her, a desk with a pot plant and a computer screen.

"Are you at the Sheriff's station?" he asked, surprised, and she nodded with a grin.

"A story that's too long for this conversation," she said ruefully. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he lied breezily. "I just wanted to see you. We didn't get the chance to talk before."

She was eyeing him knowingly, a slight frown on her face, and he sought to distract her before she could see that he was hiding something.

"Did you deal with your interloper?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I don't think we'll have any problems from that quarter," she said, sneaking a look behind her. "Are you any nearer to finding Henry?"

He smirked. "I found a most valuable source of information," he said. "I'm hopeful that we'll be able to catch up to Pan by tomorrow at the latest."

She looked grave, then, and bit her lip. "Please be careful, Rumple," she begged, touching the image of his face. He smiled, not meeting her eyes.

"I'll be fine," he lied. "There are three of us with magic, two very determined grandparents, and a pirate who, it pains me to say, is rather useful in a fight."

"Must you fight?" she asked sadly, and his mouth flattened in a line.

"Do you think I can somehow _charm_ Pan into releasing him?"

Belle shook her head, dark curls bouncing. "I didn't mean that, it's just – you always deal for things, you don't fight."

"First time for everything," he said quietly, and she bit her lip again, looking worried.

"Will you call me before you rescue him?" she asked, and he hesitated.

"As you wish," he said, somewhat reluctantly.

"Promise me you'll come back to me," she said softly. His heart felt as though it was being squeezed by icy hands, and he grimaced, looking at the ground.

"I can't," he whispered.

"Please, Rumple," she begged. "Promise me that you'll at least try." He sighed, and her eyes pleaded with him. "I won't give up," she insisted. "I won't stop trying to get to you. Promise me you won't give up on me."

He raised his head, looking into her eyes, so wide and blue and filled with love and fear, and found that he couldn't lie to her.

"I…" he began, and the Mirror's surface swirled, Belle's image gone. He swore under his breath, banishing the Mirror with a flick of his hand. He hung his head, sighing with grief and loss, and was disturbed by a low whistle from behind him.

"Crap, was that your _wife?_" asked Lily. He turned slowly to face her, noting her stance as she leant against a tree, eyes wide, hair still mussed from sleep. He grimaced. Why the hell hadn't he married Belle as soon as they were reunited in Storybrooke? _Because you're a coward, you worthless fool._

"No," he admitted. "But she is my true love." Lily grinned.

"Seriously, I'm impressed!" She held up her hand, palm outwards, and after a moment of confusion, he slapped his palm against hers in a rather surreal high-five. "You'd better snap her up good and proper before someone else does, Gold, I'm not kidding."

"I'm so pleased to be getting relationship advice from a seventeen-year-old runaway," he remarked dryly, and she chortled.

"So, how did you two meet?" she asked, throwing a couple of branches onto the fire to coax it back to life. "I mean, you're not bad-looking, but she's _way_ out of your league." She caught his flat stare, and shrugged. "No offence."

"Oh no," said Gold sardonically. "Why would I be offended by that?" She was still looking at him inquisitively, so he sighed. "It's a long story,"

"You can tell me while I make some tea," she offered.

* * *

Shaking off the despondency that had threatened to swallow her following her conversation with Rumple, Belle started to put her plan into action. Having retrieved her laptop and taken it to the sheriff's station, she plugged it in and passed it through the bars of the cell to Alex, whereupon he grabbed it eagerly. He had explained that his intention was to hack into the Home Office's files; it was something he'd resisted in his job thus far, out of a sense of loyalty to his employer, but he told Belle that he was confident that he could do it. He had heard whispers of the sorts of things the Home Office had researched and collected over the years, and if there was any way to get across to Neverland, they would have it. Belle was considering what help the spellbooks and objects in Gold's shop could be, in addition to anything he could provide, and intended to go back to the shop as soon as he was in the system. Alex's face had glowed when she informed him that magic might be necessary to finish the job, and had eagerly asked if he could watch. He settled himself more comfortably on the cot as he began typing; Belle had decided not to let him out of the cell just yet.

"I don't know how long this is going to take," he warned, and she shrugged.

"It's a step closer than I was ten minutes ago, so take as long as you need," she said. "Is there anything I can do in the meantime?"

"Hmm?" He was typing away furiously, and had a vague expression on his face, one which Belle had seen on her own on occasion. His face cleared and he grinned. "Okay, I'm through the first barrier. Let's see how far we can get."

"I'll leave you to it," she said, with a grin. "I'll be at the shop if anyone needs me."

Belle rifled through the books on the shelves, eyes watering slightly with the dust that was inevitably stirred up. Her cataloguing of the spellbooks had made things easier, certainly. She had found several spells that she thought would be handy, and gathered together some ingredients, in case they were needed. She pulled out the final book she wanted and put it on the pile on the workbench, wiping dust from her forehead. Her phone rang shrilly, and Belle fumbled it up to her ear, her other arm full of books.

"Hey, Ruby," she said. "Feeling any better?"

"Not really." Her friend sounded as though she had a cold, and Belle guessed that she'd been crying. "I feel like a total idiot."

"Well, don't," said Belle firmly. "You weren't to know. Besides, I don't think he's like the others. He's interested in magic, he doesn't want to destroy it. I told him all about us, and how Storybrooke came to be here."

Ruby made a strangled sound. "You did _what?_ Belle, what if he tells his stupid Home Office?"

"What if he does? They can't hurt us," said Belle defensively. "Anyway, he's going to help us. I left him hacking into their network to try and find us a way to get to Neverland."

"So where are you?" asked Ruby. Belle put down the books and sat on the edge of the table.

"Rumple's shop," she explained. "I have a feeling we'll need some serious magic for this, no matter what he can come up with. We might need the fairies again."

"I'll talk to Blue and Astrid when you're ready," said Ruby, a little despondently. There was a moment's silence. "Belle, did he…talk about me at all?"

Belle smiled. "Yes. He said he cared about you and didn't mean to hurt you."

There was nothing at the other end of the phone, but Belle imagined that her friend was pleased.

"Maybe I should speak to him," said Ruby, after a while, and Belle grinned.

"I'll phone you later, when I know what's going on," she said, and ended the call. She started scanning the shelves again for anything else she might need.

* * *

Gold was finishing the story of his relationship with Belle, which had been much to Lily's delight, and the tea was brewing by the time the others started to wake. Hook was first, stretching with a groan.

"I ache all over," he grumbled, rubbing at his legs. "Did you two have to make such a bloody noise? I could have done with another couple of hours."

"Couldn't we all?" said Gold dryly, tossing him one of the apples Lily had picked. It bounced off the pirate's chin and then hit him in the groin, but it wasn't as though that was what he'd aimed for. A lucky coincidence, that was all. Hook growled something unflattering concerning Gold's dubious parentage, and bit into the fruit with a sour expression on his face. David and Mary Margaret unwound themselves from one another and got to their feet, rubbing their eyes sleepily and accepting their breakfast of fruit and hot tea.

"Still no Emma," remarked David, his expression tight with worry. His wife stroked his arm comfortingly.

"I'm sure she's fine," she said soothingly. "You know how tough she is, she's probably…"

"Here," interrupted Hook, looking over to the east with a grin on his face, as Regina and Emma stormed towards the camp. The two women were practically crackling with anger, and Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. Hook whistled softly.

"Looks like a lovers' tiff," he announced, loud enough for them to hear and shoot him glares that could have flayed the skin from his body. Emma ran to hug her parents, and nodded to the others curtly. Gold raised an amused eyebrow at her.

"Breakfast?" she said bluntly. "Good. Let's eat and get out of here." She took her portion of the food on offer and settled down to tuck in. Regina hovered on the edge of the group, scowling.

"So what's the plan for Henry?" she demanded. "I'm assuming there _is_ a plan, but perhaps I'm giving you more credit than is due."

"The camp's not far from here," said Lily, before any of the others could offer a biting retort. "We should walk to the next ridge, and make our own camp. I'll scout ahead and see what we're facing." She pointed at Mary Margaret. "You can come with me, if you like. You're way quieter than any of the others. We'll sneak up and check it out, find out where Henry is, and then we need to come up with a plan to get him out."

The others nodded, even Regina, and there was silence for a while as they breakfasted. They set off once the fire had been doused and water bottles filled from the river, and began the long trek to the next ridge, which they could see beyond the veil of treetops to the north.

* * *

Henry woke up, warm and comfortable, in a bed of animal skins. He could hear the noises of the camp around him, and sat up hurriedly. Most of the Lost Boys seemed to sleep through the day and hunt and explore at night, and he could see them slumped by the dying embers of the fires that burnt in front of many of the small huts. He pushed himself to his feet and went to find some breakfast. The boys had been welcoming to him last night. He was not the youngest in the camp, but almost; the majority of the boys appeared to be in their mid to late teens. Having secured a thick piece of cold roast pork and a ladle of tea in a cup that seemed to be fashioned from a thick piece of bamboo, Henry made his way over to Tinkerbell's cell. She was picking at her breakfast, a piece of fruit and some sort of flatbread, and Henry offered to share his meat with her. She was more interested in the hot tea that he had, and after giving her his, he went to get another cup before returning.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"A little better," she admitted, and he could see a spark of life in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "What are you planning on doing today?"

Henry leant close to the bars. "Pan's kinda jumpy, and he sent a bunch of the Lost Boys out this morning to scout," he whispered. "I reckon my family's close. I think they'll be here soon, and when they are, we can get out of here."

She smiled wanly. "Unless you can get me out of this cage I'm not going anywhere."

"Leave that to me," he announced confidently. "I won't leave you behind." He looked at her curiously. "I haven't seen any other fairies here. Are you alone?"

She nodded. "We came here from the Enchanted Forest with the help of some mermaids," she began, and Henry gasped. "You know it?"

"That's where my family's from!" he said excitedly. "My mom – my real mom – she's Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter, and my other mom is the Evil Queen!" He frowned momentarily. "I should probably stop calling her that. I don't think she's _really _evil."

Tinkerbell looked slightly disbelieving at that, but was interested in the tale. "So, you're from there too? Are the fairies alright?"

"No. Yes. I mean, they're fine, but they're not there anymore. There was a curse…"

"Dark magic…" she breathed, clutching at her bars. "I felt it, even here. I didn't understand what it meant."

"It took them all to another world," he explained. "When we go back there you can come with us. You can join the other fairies." He looked at her. "How come you ended up here alone?"

She smiled ruefully. "I wanted adventure. I wanted to be out from under Blue's eye and do my own thing. I was always getting into trouble, and I thought I'd be fine on my own. I was enjoying myself for years, just flitting about as a fairy, talking to mermaids and healing the creatures that roam the forests. But then I fell in love."

"Well, that's great!"

"Not when the one you love is going to marry someone else," she muttered. "Pan caught me when I was grieving and vulnerable. Now I'm here."

"Not for long," he said. "I know we're gonna get out of here, and I know that you'll help us, understand? Pan may have taken your wand and your wings, but you're still Tinkerbell!"

"Maybe." She didn't sound as though she believed it. Henry had a sudden thought.

"I'll prove it to you," he announced. "I'll steal back your wand."

* * *

Having made up with Ruby, Alex had a new spring in his step, and upon hearing that Spencer was in the hospital with a cracked skull, Belle decided it was probably safe to let him out of the cell. He had settled into his former role of master hacker with an enthusiasm that was almost funny to watch, fingers flying over the keyboard as he broke through the walls of security that the Home Office threw up, while chewing on a pizza slice or slurping coffee. He had announced that he had found some information buried within restricted files which should enable them to make something that would go a long way towards creating a portal to Neverland, although it would need magic to make it fully operational. Belle had shivered when he informed her that one of the tasks that the Home Office had planned to entrust to Greg and Tamara was to "capture" some magic in another device of theirs (which he wasn't planning on building), and bring it to Headquarters. They had then planned for the two agents to cross to other worlds to destroy the magic there, too. It made Belle grow cold inside at the thought of such fanaticism. Alex requested a strange collection of objects; a radio alarm clock, two mobile phones, assorted wires and circuits, a selection of tools, and something made of silver. Belle donated her alarm clock and a silver tankard from the shop, which she hoped wasn't desperately important to Rumple, and Leroy managed to scrape together everything else. Alex had been working in the back of Gold's shop for several hours, muttering to himself as he melted and soldered and attached tiny chips to even tinier wires, all the time sneaking looks at the laptop screen. Ruby and Belle had paced anxiously around the place, occasionally making a run to Granny's for more coffee. Eventually, Alex poked his head around the curtain to the back room.

"Finished," he announced, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Ruby and Belle hurried over. He gestured proudly at the work bench, upon which sat a choker necklace made of flat silver links, and a nondescript leather belt. The girls eyed these objects curiously, and he grinned.

"The belt's a bonus," he announced. "Mendell had something similar that he used on your Queen."

Ruby snorted. "She's not _my_ Queen, but okay."

"What does it do?" asked Belle, and he held it up.

"Prevents you from using any magic," he said, with relish. She frowned.

"Why would we want that?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"If you can get it on Pan and make it so he can't take it off, it could be useful," he said, and she grinned.

"I'll ask Blue for help," she said. "What's the other thing?"

He held up the choker. "This is the tricky part. You'll need magic to make it work fully, but it will tear a tiny hole in the fabric of reality, thereby opening a portal to another land. You need to control where you go, I guess with a spell. The magic should also enable you to widen the hole to accommodate people." He shrugged again. "It's experimental, obviously, hence the need for magic. I'm hoping you have some ideas."

"I do," said Belle softly, picking up the choker. It felt surprisingly light. She turned to Ruby. "Call the others. We're doing this now."

Within twenty minutes, Leroy, Mother Superior and Astrid had filed into the shop and were led into the back room by Ruby. Belle looked at them all, and took a deep breath.

"Okay, here's the plan," she said, more confidently than she felt. "Alex here has created a weapon for us, a belt that prevents the wearer from using magic."

"Like the wristband Greg and Tamara used on Regina," guessed Mother Superior, and Belle nodded.

"It should prevent Pan from using any, if I can just get it on him. I have an idea for that. I need something that shields me from any magic." The two fairies looked at one another and nodded briefly.

"Which is great," added Leroy. "But how do we get there?"

Belle pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. "That's the difficult part. Alex has also come up with the beginnings of what could be a realm jumper." She held up the silver choker, which she knew contained circuitry that she couldn't even begin to comprehend. "Of course, it needs magic to work, and I have a spell that needs an element of something that opens a portal to introduce the necessary realm-jumping ability."

"Like a bean?" offered Astrid excitedly. "We don't have any yet, though, Belle."

"I know," she agreed hurriedly. "I'm hoping that we won't need an entire bean, maybe just part of the beanstalk itself. I've been researching magic beans for a while now, and I think I can make this work if we fuse a piece of the beanstalk into the realm-jumper with blood magic."

Mother Superior and Astrid gave her identical frowns.

"I don't like the idea of this," said Mother Superior firmly. "You've already performed one dark spell. Another one could be dangerous. Not just physically."

"Not as dangerous as leaving all our friends over there to die," said Belle calmly. "And my intent is pure. I'll be in no danger." Ruby nodded.

"If you fairies have a better idea, now's the time to jump in," she added. There was silence, and Belle let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"Okay," she said. "I have a cutting from Anton, and the ingredients I need for the spell. All I need, Mother Superior, is your advice on what to use for the conduit."

The former fairy's mouth flattened, expressing her displeasure at Belle's decision to go ahead with the spell, but she nodded wearily. "A piece of crystal would be best," she said. "You may also choose to seat it in an amulet which has the properties you seek, to add to the power of the device you're creating."

Belle's forehead crinkled in concentration. "Like the amulet of Hermes?"

Mother Superior's eyes widened. "Do you have it?"

Belle giggled. "It's part of Rumple's collection. He obtained it centuries ago when he was looking for a way to come here, but it never worked for him."

"The amulet alone isn't enough," agreed Mother Superior. "On our world it could have enabled travel from one place to the other, which the Dark One wouldn't need, but to travel between worlds you would need to add to its powers, just as you describe. I cannot perform the spell, but I can advise and support you, and heal you afterwards, should it be necessary."

Belle's insides took a small, uncertain leap at her words, but she tried to quash her fears.

"I'll get a crystal and the amulet," she said firmly. "Take a seat, guys."

She managed to find a round piece of clear, cut crystal in one of the display cabinets out front, and rummaged through a box of assorted amulets and talismans on the shelf behind Rumple's work bench to find the amulet of Hermes. It was blackened silver, round, with a circle in the middle which should fit the piece of crystal she had found. One side of the amulet was patterned with stylised waves and mountains, the other with constellations. Her friends were subdued, sitting perched on the small bed as they waited for her to begin. The exception was Alex, who was almost beside himself with excitement.

"I think I can create a clip on here to attach the amulet," he said eagerly, holding up the choker. "It would be more effective as a single piece, rather than separate entities."

Belle agreed, and handed over the amulet so that he could make the adjustments to the necklace. She gathered her ingredients; ground moonstone, a phoenix feather, oak leaves, hair from a naiad, and the beanstalk cutting, and ground them into a powder. Ruby held a flask for her to tip the ingredients into as Alex watched avidly. Belle took a deep breath, and Ruby shot her a concerned look.

"You need the dagger again, don't you?" she said knowingly, and Belle nodded, going to fetch it. Mother Superior and Astrid looked at one another in consternation, and Leroy reached out to grasp their hands. When Belle returned, dagger in one hand and a white porcelain bowl in the other, she bade Ruby place the flask of ingredients on the floor and add the crystal to the top. Then she knelt on the floor, clutching the dagger and bowl, and looked at the others.

"This is a different spell to the one we did before. I need more blood this time," she said quietly. "It must run over the dagger to absorb the magic as it leaves me, and it _must_ be my blood. I must produce enough to fill this flask three-quarters of the way up. I don't know what contact with the dagger for that long will do to me. It may make me incoherent, or unconscious, or so wracked with pain I don't know what I'm doing. In that case I need you all to help me finish the spell, do you understand? Hold me down if necessary."

They nodded nervously, the two fairies looking sickened. Alex's eyes were as wide as they could go, perspiration beading on his forehead. Belle took a deep breath.

"Here goes," she muttered, and sliced into the veins of her arm with the dagger, gasping with pain as she did so. Blood began to flow over the dagger's blade and into the bowl, and the now-familiar black threads began to weave under Belle's skin. She jerked, screaming, and fell to the floor. Immediately, Ruby and Astrid grabbed her and held her down as she thrashed and shrieked. Alex held the bowl to catch the blood that was still flowing from her, and Leroy, lip curling with distaste, held the dagger to the wound in her arm, letting the blood flow down its blade. Belle jerked, spasms wracking her, her screams becoming hoarse. Black threads beneath her skin were thickening, pulsing, as though fresh veins of darkness were growing within her. Her eyes opened wide with pain and the irises turned slowly from azure to midnight, growing unnaturally large as they did so. Tears were pouring down Ruby's face as she held her friend, feeling utterly helpless in the face of her agony.

"Surely that's enough!" said Alex, desperately, and Ruby shook her head, determined.

"A little longer," she said, her voice wobbling. Belle shrieked louder as the veins of darkness thickened further, feet drumming against the floor.

"Now!" said Mother Superior urgently, and Leroy took the dagger away, watching as the darkness spread up towards Belle's head. Ruby and Astrid hurriedly pulled her into a sitting position so that she could disgorge the blackness into the bowl at her feet. She fell back, exhausted, dry-heaving and sobbing, and Mother Superior was immediately at her side, passing her wand back and forth over her body, healing the cut in her arm. The others waited anxiously, and eventually Belle pushed herself up with a groan, tears falling from her eyes. Ruby hugged her, still crying herself.

"That wasn't quite what I expected," whispered Alex to Leroy, and the dwarf grunted.

"This is exceptional stuff," he explained. "Mostly magic's moonbeams and fairy dust."

Astrid gave him a flat look, which he elected not to notice.

"But all magic has a price," said Belle wearily, allowing Ruby to help her up into a kneeling position. "And that was mine. We want this huge gift, the ability to travel between worlds, so I had to pay for it." She rubbed her eyes, which had returned to their normal colour, despite their haunted look. "Now, let's see…" She tipped the blood, which was gleaming with the purple fire of magic, into the flask of ingredients. The reaction was instantaneous. The mixture boiled and seethed. Belle concentrated on what she wanted, on a way to get to Rumple, and poured all her love and hope into the dagger before plunging it into the mixture. There was a slight, rather inconspicuous _'pop'_ and the crystal, now a deep blood-red, rattled against the walls of the otherwise empty flask. There was a collective sigh of relief at the anticlimactic end to the spell. Belle stuck the dagger in her belt, and picked up the crystal. She could feel the power in it, and hoped it would be enough. She passed it around the group, Leroy, Alex and Ruby mentioning that they could feel _something_, and Astrid and Mother Superior looking quietly impressed. Eventually Alex took the crystal and secured it in the amulet before attaching it to the silver choker. He held it up to Belle, who took it. _It looks so innocuous_, she thought, _like a pretty trinket, but made from blood and darkness_.

"How do we test it?" asked Ruby, and Alex's face fell a little.

"You – can't," he said lamely. "If we've done everything as we should, it'll work."

"I don't like this, Belle," warned Leroy. "If we have no way to test it, how do we know you won't be pulled into some void or hell-dimension?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don't like the idea of explaining to Gold what happened to you. You should let me go."

"Or me," put in Ruby, her face anxious. Belle smiled at them.

"Magic comes from emotions, Rumple taught me that much," she said gently. "No offence, but none of you has a true love in Neverland. If anyone can make this work, it'll be me. I _have_ to get to him. There's no other option."

"Before any of that," put in Ruby firmly. "You need to sleep."

Mother Superior nodded her head. "You should rest for a couple of days before you make the trip," she said gently. "Your strength has taken a severe blow. You need to recharge before you can be of any use to them."

Belle grumbled a little, wanting to get going straight away, but she could see the logic in the fairy's words. She sighed, vexed.

"But I'm finding it so difficult to sleep," she protested. "And I'm too excited."

"Well, that's easily fixed," said Leroy slyly, nodding to Astrid, who grinned and tapped Belle on the back of the head with her wand. Belle immediately crumpled to the floor and Ruby chuckled.

"Will she be okay?" asked Alex, wiping his forehead anxiously. Ruby gave him an appraising look.

"She'll be fine, it's just a sleeping spell," she said. "Are _you_ okay? You're sweating. Do you have a fever?"

He shrugged. "All the excitement, I guess."

She grinned suddenly. "Help me get Belle back to Gold's house, and we'll go and blow off some steam. Leroy, Astrid, you up for a beer?"

The fairies declined her invitation, and Leroy hefted Belle onto his shoulder without assistance.

"I'll take her," he announced. "You kids have fun."

* * *

Belle was floating in a dark and fuzzy dreamworld when she heard him calling her name.

_"Whazzat?"_ she mumbled sleepily, turning towards the sound. He called her again and her eyes opened fully. She sat up with shock. She was lying on top of their bed, fully-dressed, with no memory of having gotten there. In fact, the last thing she remembered was…

"Sneaky bastards," she muttered, frowning and rubbing her eyes. She did feel better, though, so she supposed she shouldn't be angry with them. She spied the choker lying on the bedside cabinet, awaiting her use. _I could go today. I could see him._

"I'm sorry to wake you, sweetheart." _Of course. Rumple._ She bounced off the bed eagerly, looking into the mirror.

"Is this it?" she asked. "Is this you calling me to tell me you're going to rescue Henry?"

"I would guess tomorrow at dawn," he confirmed, and smiled wryly. "It is tradition, after all. We sent scouts to check out their camp. Henry's there, we just need to get him out."

She sighed, equal parts worry and relief. "Then you can come home to me," she said happily, and his smile disappeared, his eyes suddenly full of pain.

"I have no way to get back, Belle," he said gently, but to his surprise she laughed.

"There is a way!" she said excitedly. "We have a realm jumper! I was planning on resting for a couple of days before using it – Mother Superior thought it would be best – but now you can tell me when to come and bring you back!"

He frowned. "Where the hell did you get a realm jumper?" he asked quietly. "I of all people know there isn't one in town, at least there wasn't before I left. And why do you need to rest?" Belle fidgeted a little, not meeting his eye, and his voice grew sterner. "Belle, what did you do?"

She sighed, and reached over to the bedside cabinet, picking up a silver choker, which appeared to have a round amulet with a gleaming red stone in the centre hanging from it. She held it up to the mirror so that he could see. "We created it, with a piece of beanstalk, some technological innovations courtesy of the Home Office…and blood magic," she admitted reluctantly, and he started as he recognised the amulet, his eyes widening in horror.

"You performed the blood ritual of the lost?" he demanded incredulously, and she gaped at his knowledge. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Yes, strangely enough!" she snapped, matching his tone. "Better than most, I expect!"

"You could have been killed!" he said sharply.

"Well, I wasn't!" She planted fists on hips, her eyes flashing. "I did what I had to do and I got what I wanted, which is a way to get you back to me. I would have thought a little gratitude might be in order!"

He sighed, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, Belle. Look, I don't want to fight. I just – I can't imagine what you must have gone through."

"No, you can't," she said tonelessly, a shadow seeming to fall over her face. She seemed to regret her words when she saw his expression. She could tell that he was afraid for her. He stroked the image of her cheek.

"Please, sweetheart," he begged. "Promise me you won't do that again."

"Well, I won't need to…"

"Promise me!" he said sternly, and Belle nodded impatiently.

"Okay, I promise, but I don't see…" He rolled his eyes in frustration.

"I do not propose a discussion!" he said sharply.

She glared at him, her face a little mutinous, but nodded, and he sighed with relief.

"I want you to promise not to use that to come here," he said sternly. "Send someone else. It's dangerous. I don't want you hurt."

She frowned at him. "I could ask Leroy, if you think I ought to be wrapped in cotton wool." she said coldly. "Although why you think I shouldn't be exposed to danger as well as you is beyond me. We're a team, Rumple. I want to help."

"I know," he sighed. "But send the dwarf anyway. Humour me." She glared at him again, tapping her foot in annoyance, and he raked an irritated hand through his hair. She had to believe he would come back, or she would use the amulet right there and then, and he didn't want her there. It wasn't just a question of her safety, although the gods knew that preyed on his mind enough. He didn't want her to see what he knew he would need to do, what he would become.

"How close are you to Henry?" she asked, and he smiled sadly.

"Just over the next ridge. As I said, we'll make our move tomorrow," he replied, not meeting her gaze. "I should go; we have battle plans to make." _And boys to murder._

She looked at him curiously, a deep, knowing look that seemed to see to the depths of his soul, that was so _Belle_.

"What has happened to you?" she asked slowly, sadly, her expression sorrowful. He grimaced, and she bit her lip in consternation. "Rumple, what have you done?"

"Nothing…" he began repressively.

"Please don't lie to me." Her voice was calm, gentle. It would have been easier if she'd shouted.

"I have to save Henry," he said softly. It wasn't really answering her, but she seemed to understand, all the same, and she drew back a little. _Good._

"At all costs?" she asked sadly. "At the cost of your soul?"

He pulled a face, suddenly impatient. "My soul is as black as night, Belle, you know that."

She shook her head. "I don't believe that," she said gently. "I've never believed it. I know the kind of man you are, Rumple. You're not evil."

He shook his head. "Belle, if you knew the things I've done…"

"I don't care!" she said hotly. "It's in the past…"

"Don't be a fool!" he snapped. "It's _never_ in the past! It's my past, present and _future_, short though that may be."

"Don't _say_ that!" Her eyes were flashing, her hands on her hips. He shook his head.

"This is how it has to be, Belle," he said gently. "I save him, I die, and I take as many of them with me as I can. A fair trade."

Her mouth flattened, her expression full of pain for him. He looked at the floor, irritated. He didn't need her pity and understanding. Nor her forgiveness. He didn't deserve it.

"I don't accept it," she announced firmly. "I'm coming to help you!"

He growled at her stubbornness. "I don't want you here," he said abruptly. "I'm a lost cause, Belle, and I won't drag you down with me. I know what I have to do, and I don't want you to see it."

"Please, Rumple!" she begged, her eyes shining. "Please don't do this! This isn't you anymore!"

"This was always me!" he snapped, and she shrank back a little. His face softened slightly, and he touched the image of her cheek again. "You were a dream, Belle," he said quietly. "You were a beautiful dream. But I know what I am, and it's time for me to wake up."

She shook her head, her lip trembling, but her eyes were fierce. "Don't you dare do this to me again!" she said angrily. "Don't you shut me out! I love you!"

"Goodbye, Belle," he whispered, and her eyes widened.

"Rumple, no!" Her voice cut off as the image within the Mirror swirled, blue and silver, until it was once again flat glass, throwing his reflection back at him like some sick joke so that he could see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

* * *

**A/N: I'm aiming to get the next chapter up before next weekend, but don't hold me to it. Hope you all enjoyed.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: This is a shorter chapter than usual, but I'm going away this weekend, and haven't had time to write any more. I thought you might want an update anyway.**

* * *

Gold ran his hands over his face, spreading the tears in a thin layer so that the breeze chilled his skin. He took a deep, shaking breath and let it out in a rush, calming himself.

"I didn't think you were an idiot," came Lily's voice, from behind him, and he looked up at the sky, shaking his head in annoyance.

"How is it none of you people seem to understand when someone is having a private conversation?" he demanded irritably, turning towards her. She shrugged, completely unembarrassed.

"Because we're out in the open and you were shouting a little, I suppose," she said.

"Well, it's over now, and I don't require your input, thank you very much," he growled.

Lily shook her head. "Why are you so determined to push away the light in your life?" she asked. "You seem to be highly intelligent, and yet you can be incredibly stupid."

He frowned. "I'm considerably older than you…" he began, and she snorted.

"Doesn't mean you're any wiser," she retorted. She put a tentative hand on his arm. "Please. Don't push her away." He shook her off and turned to go, but she followed him. "I've seen this happen to warriors in my village. They come back from battle – scarred, hurting, and they shut out those they love because they think it'll make things easier to bear." She gave him a hard look. "But it never does. We all need love. My guess is, if you're lucky enough to find true love, you'd have to be a complete idiot to throw it away."

Gold grimaced. "She's better off without me," he muttered, and Lily looked as though she wanted to slap him.

"That's for her to decide, you arrogant bastard!" she snapped.

"When I want your opinions on my personal affairs, I'll ask for them!" he snapped back, rounding on her, and she folded her arms, unfazed by his reaction.

"You need to hear them anyway!" she insisted. "_Someone_ needs to speak up for her!"

"What the hell would you know about it?" he demanded, lip curling, and she huffed.

"She's noble born, isn't she?" she said, and he nodded. She glared at him, planting fists on hips. "So, all her life she's had men making decisions for her, and telling her what her future is. I know what a burden that is. That's why I ran away. Do you really want to be next in line to do that to her?"

"I'm trying to save her…"

"Do you think she _wants_ you to save her?" She threw up her hands. "You know what, Gold? I take it back, you _are_ a complete idiot! You said that she made the decision to sacrifice herself to save her people, by coming with you, and then she fell in love with you. Do you really want to take away everything she is now?"

_No-one decides my fate but me_. He could hear her words again, in his mind, could picture her staring down her father, staring down a room full of men. She'd been magnificent. He sighed.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said quietly. "I promised myself I'd keep her safe, and the safest place for her is away from me."

He strode wearily away, head bowed, leaving Lily staring after him furiously. Muttering under her breath about the irritating qualities of the weaker sex – men – she turned back around, and saw the Mirror, still hanging in the air in front of her. She frowned curiously, then her mouth curved upwards in a slow grin.

* * *

Lily used her small belt-knife to cut into her palm, wincing as she did so, and held a picture in her mind of the woman she had seen as she threw her blood against the Mirror.

"Show me Belle," she said confidently, and sucked at the cut on her hand as she waited for the picture to form. The young woman was sitting on the edge of a bed with her head in her hands, weeping, and Lily felt a surge of sympathy for her.

"Hey!" she said, making the woman start. Belle looked up, her eyes red from crying. She saw a young girl, thin but pretty, with black hair and large dark eyes, dressed in animal skins.

"Um – hi," she said uncertainly.

"I'm Lily," said the girl, looking over her shoulder. "Look, your man's here, and if you don't get your ass here soon, he's going to do something stupid."

"You know Rumple?" asked Belle, standing up, and the girl shrugged, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"He seems to have a lot of names," she remarked. "Not sure that's a good thing. I know him as Gold. Anyway, I overheard him talking to you, and he's being a stubborn ass, we both know that. I think he's slipping further into darkness the longer he stays here, it's as though I can feel it. It's like…" She chewed her lip, pondering. "It's like he thinks he's worthless, so he's going to throw himself into battle like he doesn't matter. But he's been kind to me, and I like him, so this is me doing him a favour."

"He says he doesn't want me there," said Belle, subdued, and Lily grinned.

"But you're not going to listen to him, are you?" she said, and Belle returned the grin somewhat tearfully.

"No, I'm not," she agreed. "I have the means to get to Neverland, I just need to get to where you are."

"I can help with that," Lily assured her. "You say you have a realm jumper?" Her smile widened as Belle nodded. "Then you need to think about him when you use it, and you need some fairy dust to focus your mind. We don't want you landing on the back of a giant squid because you lost your concentration."

"I can get some!" said Belle excitedly. "Anything else?"

Lily looked over her shoulder again. "Yes," she said. "Hurry. There isn't much time."

* * *

Belle rifled through the ingredients on the shelves in Gold's shop, carefully putting any that she thought would be useful into a backpack, along with some glass flasks for mixing up the resultant potions. She added one of the spellbooks that contained several spells she favoured, a spool of Rumple's gold thread, and a large, clear crystal from Rumple's special collection, wrapping it in a piece of cloth before stowing it alongside the remainder of the items she had chosen. Finally, she took the gun he always kept at the shop, ensured that it was fully-loaded, and placed that in the bag too. She was determined to get to Neverland, but equally determined that her arrival there would be useful, and not merely a distraction for the man she loved.

Shouldering the backpack, she left his shop and stormed into Granny's, making Ruby and Alex jump. They were seated at the bar with Leroy, Tom and the rest of the dwarfs, drinking beers. Alex looked flushed and feverish; Belle wondered whether Ruby was right, and he was coming down with something. She let the backpack slip to the ground and looked around. The diner's occupants watched her expectantly.

"I need your help," said Belle abruptly. "We have to use the realm-jumper now. Where's Mother Superior?"

Leroy spat out some of his beer, and promptly looked disgusted with himself at the waste. "What's the hurry?" he asked. "You should be resting, anyway."

Belle rounded on him. "Yes, but thanks to your girlfriend I had a perfectly good sleep and am very well rested," she snapped, sounding anything but. "I have to go _now_, because he's in trouble. They all are. They're going to rescue Henry tomorrow and I _have_ to be there!"

Tom hurriedly ran from the diner to fetch Mother Superior, and Belle paced impatiently. Ruby looked her up and down critically.

"Well, you can't go into battle dressed like that," she said, waving her hand at Belle's little dress and dainty shoes. "Come upstairs, we'll find something more suitable."

Belle followed her upstairs, and Ruby threw open the doors to her closet. Belle was rifling through the clothing interestedly when Ruby stepped back a fraction, made as if to speak, then hesitated. Belle frowned slightly.

"What's up?" she asked, and Ruby smiled a little tremulously.

"I'm worried about you," she admitted. "You're going off to another world and I have no idea if I'll see you again." Belle gave her an understanding look, but Ruby wasn't finished. "I could – come with you – you know? It's still wolf's time, I could be useful."

Belle was sorely tempted to have her best friend accompany her and tear bites out of Pan and his minions, but a part of her knew it was safest to make the journey alone. Ruby nodded reluctantly when she explained herself, and the two girls hugged fiercely.

"Soooo," said Ruby, grinning, waving her hand across the closet contents in a dramatic gesture. "How do you want to make your entrance?"

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a red silk shirt and black leather pants, jacket and boots (the pants were too long and tight across the butt, but Ruby said, with a wink, that that was all to the good) she made her way back downstairs. Mother Superior and Astrid were waiting for her, and Belle fastened the realm-jumper around her neck and rolled up the belt Alex had given her, stowing it in her inside pocket.

"Don't put it on until you're there," he had warned earlier. "Otherwise the magic in the choker won't work."

Mother Superior held up a ring, a simple thing of silver with a small blue stone set into it. Belle pushed it onto her middle finger.

"That will shield you from magic for a day," explained the fairy. "I'm sorry I can't extend the spell any longer than that, but hopefully it'll be enough."

Belle nodded.

"I need a little fairy dust," she said. "To help with the spell."

Mother Superior nodded, and beckoned to Astrid. Belle was pleased that it would be Astrid giving her this gift; she felt far more comfortable around the other fairy. Astrid gave her a small bottle of pink glass, and Belle held it up to the light.

"You'll only need a little," said Astrid. "Save the rest for emergencies."

Belle gently shook out a tiny pinch of the dust, and stowed the bottle in her pocket with the belt. She looked from one to the other of those standing before her.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Thank you all. Wish me luck."

They hugged her one by one, a chorus of good wishes raining down on her, and then she stepped back and took a deep breath.

"Flick the switch," said Alex helpfully, and Belle grinned, reaching around to the back of her choker for the tiny switch. Immediately, she felt a strange tingling sensation. She sprinkled the fairy dust over her head and grasped the amulet in her hand, filling her head with Rumple, willing herself to get to him. The others watched as a tiny hole seemed to appear in the air before her, a hole that suddenly burst open with a strange, dull booming sound. It was utterly black within, and Ruby grasped Astrid's hand in fear. Belle took one step forward into the terrible blackness, and was immediately swallowed up.

"_Wow!_" said Alex reverently. "That was _cool!_" Ruby nudged him with a grin, and impulsively kissed his cheek, before frowning.

"You're burning up," she said worriedly. "I think you must have the 'flu or something."

He shook his head, his eyes bright with a strange fever. "I feel great! I feel better than I've ever felt before. This place is amazing!" He swept Ruby into his arms for an extravagant kiss, making her giggle. "But not as amazing as you."

She giggled further, letting him kiss her neck, pretending not to see the uncomfortable looks the dwarfs were giving them. All of a sudden, Alex stiffened, jerked, and cried out, falling to the floor. Ruby pulled free before she could follow him to the cold tiles, eyes widening in shock.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her heart thumping in fear as he writhed, groaning. Silence had fallen in the bar behind them, except for the sudden pattering of feet from the kitchens as Granny entered the scene, crossbow in hands.

"Oh, Granny, for pity's sake!" snarled Ruby, throwing up her hands. Her grandmother shook her head grimly.

"Ruby, can't you _smell_ it?" she asked, in deadly tones. Ruby's mouth dropped open as she looked down at the twitching form of Alex, then she opened up her nostrils and let herself breathe him in. Instantly she clapped her hands to her mouth, shaking her head as if that would make the truth disappear.

"No," she whimpered. "_No!_"

"What the hell's happened?" demanded Leroy, and Granny seemed to see the dwarfs for the first time.

"Okay fellas, time for you to step up!" she said firmly. "We need to get him to the sheriff's station, five minutes ago. Everyone grab a limb!"

There was a scramble as the dwarfs hastened to obey, and with two to each of his limbs (Ruby had taken the left leg with Tom), they made their way down the street. Tears were streaming down Ruby's face, and Leroy watched her curiously, but no words were spoken until they reached the sheriff's station. Alex was put back in the cell he had so recently been freed from, and he collapsed on the floor, writhing and moaning as the door was locked.

"Okay, what's _up_ with him?" asked Leroy angrily. Granny sighed, lowering the crossbow.

"It's wolf's time," she said pointedly. Leroy looked confused.

"So? Since when was he a werewolf?"

Ruby stifled a sob. "Since I bit him," she said tearfully. "I didn't think it would matter, because I hadn't changed." She buried her head in her hands, and Granny put a comforting arm around her.

"It's not your fault, honey, it's mine," she said gently. "I tried to keep the knowledge from you for too long – if I'd told you from the start you would have known all these things." Ruby clung to her, weeping openly, and the dwarfs looked uncomfortable.

"Is he gonna change, like, now?" asked Leroy, and Granny shook her head.

"He's only just been infected," she said. "I don't know how he'll be over the next twenty-four hours. He may change fully tomorrow night. I just don't know."

Leroy nodded, attempting stoicism. "We'll stand guard. We won't let him hurt anyone. That includes himself," he added, for Ruby's benefit, and she gave him a grateful, if watery, smile. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't you worry about your boy," he said. "You just worry about Belle."

* * *

Belle thumped to the ground, face-first in a mulch of dead leaves and rotting vegetation. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, spitting out bits of the forest floor as she did so, and tried to catch her breath.

"Belle?"

She looked up sharply at Mary Margaret's voice, and stood up shakily as the other woman enveloped her in a hug. Belle hugged back, tears of relief leaking from her eyes. She had done it. She was in Neverland. She shrugged out of her backpack as Mary Margaret backed away, still smiling. She could hear others approaching, and stepped forward to hug Emma and David. She smiled at Lily, who was jumping up and down and clapping her hands in excitement, and nodded coolly to Regina and Hook, who were hovering just out of reach, expressions of shock on their faces.

"I don't understand – how did you get here?" asked Mary Margaret breathlessly, and Belle pointed to the choker around her neck.

"Realm jumper," she explained, looking around anxiously. _Where is he?_ Mary Margaret gave her a knowing look and grabbed David's arm, pulling him away. It was then that she saw him, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away. He was standing at the edge of the clearing, a look of shock on his face, which he quickly threw off, leaving his features calm and impassive. He was dressed in black leather and deep red silk, and she absently touched the collar of her own silk shirt. She couldn't take her eyes off him, so didn't see Emma beckon to Lily, Hook and Regina. She didn't see Regina roll her eyes or hear Hook mutter something about probably needing earplugs that night. Her heart was thumping painfully, her breath quickening, and he watched her calmly. Exactly how angry was he? The suspense was killing her.

"You didn't make me promise not to come," she blurted, and he blinked. She straightened, squaring her shoulders. "I know you said to send Leroy, but I didn't agree! You can't say I've broken my word or gone back on a deal with you, because there _was_ no deal! I said I was going to find a way to get to you and I did, and I'm here, so…so, you can just…you can just…put up with it!" She took a deep breath, as he took a step towards her. The look in his eyes made her want to simultaneously back away and fling herself at him. She settled for shuffling from foot to foot on the spot. His eyes were dark and inscrutable, his movements sinuous now that his limp was gone, reminding her of their time in the Dark Castle. It wasn't _fair_! Why did he have to be so graceful when all she did was fall on her face? She probably had leaves in her hair.

"You can't send me back," she continued, as he drew closer. "I won't go back without you, and that's final!" She lifted her chin, her lower lip wobbling slightly with her nervousness, and she suddenly stamped her foot, eyes flashing. "_Dammit_, Rumple, say something! I can't stand the suspense, I can't…"

"I love you," he said softly, and she seemed to wilt with relief, falling into his arms as he pressed his lips to hers. As always, kissing Belle made him glow, giving him strength, sending fire through his veins, warming him like good brandy or the summer sun, chasing shadows from his mind and soul. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him as the kiss deepened, making tiny noises of pleasure that were doing terrible things to his self-control. He felt himself respond to her touch, to her closeness, and crushed her against him. How could he ever have thought that he could be without her? It was as though he had just learned how to breathe, as though she was filling him with life. Her fingers dragged through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, and he growled with pleasure, making her squirm. A slow, familiar fire was rising up within him, and he gently pulled back before he could take her right there on the outskirts of the camp. Her lips pulled gently at his as they parted, and he pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in. He felt as though he was filled with light, as though part of his soul had been returned to him. A small, dark part of him snarled that he would never be able to do the things he must when he was like this, but he tamped it down, revelling in the scent and feel and taste of her. She gave him a tremulous smile and nuzzled her head against his neck, her arms around his waist.

"I missed you," she whispered, and he smiled against her hair. "Don't you ever try and leave me again," she added, more fiercely, and his lips found her neck.

"Never," he breathed, placing gentle kisses against her throat and making her hum with pleasure. "I don't have the strength, Belle. You're the strong one, not me."

"Don't say that," she mumbled, trying to stop her head from spinning. "You were prepared to sacrifice yourself for Henry. That's amazing."

He drew back then, placing a gentle kiss to her brow before pressing his forehead to hers. "I think – I may still have to," he confessed, and her eyebrows contracted in sudden anger and fear.

"Oh, no you don't!" she said fiercely. She pulled away and hooked the backpack with one hand, lifting it up to open it. He peered inside, his expression one of stunned amazement. Belle grinned

"I thought you might want some supplies," she said innocently. His smile was positively incandescent as he looked at her.

"You are the most amazing, beautiful creature," he whispered. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Belle sniffed, blushing. "Well, there's that thing you occasionally do to wake me up in the morning, for a start." He grinned wickedly, eyes flashing, and she was sorely tempted to sneak into the bushes with him. She recalled that the Charmings were just beyond the trees, and shouldered the backpack.

"I hope you're coming up with a plan," she announced, and his grin widened.

"I think we can arrange something suitably nefarious," he agreed, taking her hand.

"And no more of this suicide crap," she warned, and he raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

"No-one's allowed to kill me but you," he promised, and she gave him a fond glare.

"Well, that was quick," drawled Hook, as they ventured into the campsite. "Urgency over technique, Dark One? For shame!" He leered at Belle. "I could take her off your hands, if you're not up to the task."

Belle bristled, but Gold squeezed her hand calmly.

"Hook, why don't you just tell Miss Swan that you're head over heels in love with her, and then we won't have to put up with all this ridiculous posturing?" he asked calmly. Hook spluttered, face reddening as Emma stared at him incredulously.

"_What?_" she demanded. Gold smirked.

"Now," he said easily, squatting by the fire and opening up the backpack. "I believe we have a battle plan to make."

* * *

**A/N: and the SS Rumbelle sails again. All aboard!**


End file.
